Run: 2026-09-23-01M36WV5FM6HXA926YC1ZN77XW

The bell over the door had barely settled when the scent of cinnamon met the sharper smell of rain on wool. "You're early." "Couldn't sleep. Kept turning it over." A tray slid onto the counter, rolls still steaming. Flour dusted the wood between them. "The missing tin. Mrs. Ellery swears she locked the pantry." "She locks everything. Even the sugar." "Then how did the shortbread vanish before the church social?" Outside, the street was empty except for a newspaper caught against the lamppost. Inside, the oven ticked as it cooled. "I saw footprints in the alley. Small. Flour on the step." "Could've been the cat." "Cats don't wear garden clogs." A cup was poured, steam curling between their hands. Neither reached for it. "If it was the delivery boy, why leave the money on the sill?" "Guilt. Or a warning." "Warnings don't come with exact change." They both looked toward the back room, where the pantry door stood ajar by a finger's width, as if someone had meant to close it and thought better of it. "We should tell the constable." "And say what? That the biscuits confessed?" A laugh, brief and uneasy. The rolls had gone cold.