Run: 2026-09-03-01M1KZ7PZ7JSPFR8MMW9XQ8ENC

Flour drifted through the golden light of the small-town bakery, settling like snow on the worn wooden counter. "Someone took the last cinnamon roll right before the morning rush. Again." "Maybe the early delivery driver got hungry." "He’s been delivering here for ten years and never once touched a pastry without paying." "Then maybe it was that stranger who asked about the recipe yesterday." "The one with the notebook and the overly sweet smile? What did he want with Grandma’s cinnamon recipe?" "He said he was writing an article on small-town bakeries. But he kept looking at the back office." "Where the safe is." "And the old ledger." "We should check the security camera." "The camera has been unplugged since Tuesday." "That’s not a coincidence." "Did you notice crumbs on the windowsill?" "Those weren’t there when we closed last night." "So someone was inside after hours, helped themselves to a roll, and didn’t even wipe their mouth." "Or they wanted us to think it was just a hungry thief." "While they were really after something else." "Something worth more than pastries." "Like the recipe, or the ledger, or the truth about what happened to old Mr. Pemberton." "Keep your voice down. The bell over the door just rang."