Run: 2026-09-23-01M36RENJJV1PWZ84ASJY0SG1J

“Your lemon tarts are cooling too quickly.” “Then stop opening the door to the alley.” A bell jingled above the bakery entrance, though no one had come in. Rain stitched silver lines down the front windows, blurring the green awning across Main Street. On the counter, a flour-dusted recipe book lay open to a page with a clean rectangle where a card had been. “I didn’t take it.” “I didn’t say you did.” “You were looking at me like I’d stolen the secret to your blackberry scones.” “I was looking at you like you’d tracked mud across my freshly scrubbed floor.” A brown footprint darkened the tiles beside the cooling rack. It pointed toward the pantry. “Those aren’t my boots.” “Mine are still on the mat.” The pantry door stood ajar. A faint clink came from inside, followed by silence. “Tell me you put the cake tin away.” “I put it away yesterday.” “Then why is it on the floor?” The bell jingled again. This time, a gust rattled the door, and the footprint smudged beneath the draft. “Someone’s been in here.” “Someone with very small feet?” “Or someone who knows the back entrance sticks.” A warm, sugary smell drifted from the pantry. “Is that your blackberry filling?” “It was.” “Then we’d better find the thief before the whole town gets a slice.”