Run: 2026-09-23-01M36NH1E1ERD4F0RB46Z6WMH3

At dawn, the bell over the door of Mallowby’s Bakery gave a nervous jingle. Rain tapped the windows, and the smell of cinnamon buns softened the chill. “The flour sack was open when I arrived.” “Mouse?” “Unless mice wear muddy boots. There’s a print beside the pantry.” A tray clattered onto the counter. Through the flour dust, a neat brown footprint pointed toward the back door. “Could be the delivery boy.” “Could be. But he’s six years old and wears red galoshes.” The baker peered at the print, then at the cooling rack. One lemon tart was missing. In its place lay a brass button, engraved with a tiny star. “Mr. Bell’s coat has buttons just like that.” “He’s the mayor. He also claims he was home all night.” “Perhaps he stopped by for a midnight tart.” “Perhaps he stopped by to hide something.” The bakery’s old clock chimed six. Outside, a figure hurried past beneath a black umbrella. “Do we follow him?” “Not in this rain. First, we’ll wrap the remaining tarts.” A pause. “And then?” “Then we ask the mayor why his button was in our flour.” The bell jingled again, though the door had not opened. Both turned toward it. On the counter, the brass button began to roll.