Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KAHES9VGY9TEMSG356K6K1

The bakery smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, the air warm and sugar-dusted. Behind the counter, a tray of untouched lemon squares sat beside a cooling rack. “You’re not really selling those, are you? Not after what happened.” “They’re just pastries. Nothing wrong with a little lemon and butter.” “Millie was in here yesterday. Bought half a dozen of the same ones. Now she’s in the hospital.” “That’s a terrible thing to say out loud.” “I’m not saying it. I’m asking why the health inspector hasn’t been by yet.” “Because there’s nothing to inspect. Flour, sugar, eggs, lemon zest. That’s all that’s in them.” “And nutmeg. Don’t forget the nutmeg.” A pause. The cash register drawer slid open and then shut with a soft click. The bell above the door jingled, but no one new came in—just the wind pushing against the glass. “Millie’s allergic. Everyone in town knows that.” “She said she wanted one bite. It was her birthday.” “Her birthday was in March. It’s October.” “Then maybe she forgot her own birthday.” The second voice dropped lower, just above the hum of the refrigerator case. “You and I both know she didn’t forget anything.”