Run: 2026-09-03-01M1M0DZ4B0DMATN21RGQVNNFZ

Golden light spilled across the display case at The Cinnamon Whisk, where trays of scones cooled on racks. Outside, the town square was just waking, but inside, the scent of butter and burnt sugar wrapped around two old friends. Steam curled from a kettle, and the little bell over the door gave a soft jingle as it settled. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is it the mayor’s new statue again?" "Worse. My entry for the Harvest Bake-Off is missing." "Missing? It was on the side table last night, wasn’t it?" "I locked up and set it right there by the register. This morning, the plate was clean, but the pumpkin bread was gone." "Maybe someone came in early and bought it?" "With the bakery locked? Don’t be ridiculous, Bert." "Well, we can’t have a thief in Maple Hollow. Not with the festival this weekend." "Then help me find it. Check the back; I’ll take the front." The mixer droned on, low and steady. Somewhere beneath the scent of cinnamon, something else lingered—sharp, metallic, and out of place. The bell above the door gave a cheerful ring, but neither of them smiled.