Run: 2026-09-23-01M36SE0HW8V0DAK4YVFWYYJ18

The bell over the door had barely settled when cinnamon drifted across the counter, warm and ordinary, as if nothing in town had ever gone missing. "You're early. The scones aren't even out of the oven." "I didn't come for scones. Mrs. Pell was here yesterday, wasn't she?" "She always is. Thursday, two bran muffins, black coffee, no sugar. Sat by the window and watched the square like she was waiting on someone." "Her niece says she never made it home. Found this under the porch mat this morning." A folded receipt slid across the flour-dusted wood. The total was circled in red, and beneath it a time had been written: 4:15. "That's not my handwriting." "Didn't think it was. But it's your paper, and you lock up at four." The oven timer chirped. Neither of them reached for it. Outside, a truck idled at the light, and the morning went on being gentle. "She paid in exact change. Said the muffins were for her sister, then changed her mind and asked me to wrap only one. Kept looking at the door." "Did she leave with anyone?" "No. She left alone. Or I thought she did. Pour the coffee. We'll start with who else was in here when she stood up."