Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HJ5EABH3XWRDF84HV0CT7

By seven, the bakery smelled of cinnamon and rain. Nora stood behind the counter, arranging currant buns beneath a glass dome, while Ben shook the water from his umbrella. “Tell me you saved a bun.” “I saved you two. Though I may charge extra for the mystery you’ve brought in.” “What mystery?” “The flour on your cuffs. You haven’t baked a thing in your life.” Ben looked down. “I stopped by the mill.” “The mill’s been closed since Tuesday.” Across the square, the church clock struck seven. Nora set down the bun she was holding. “I went in to check the back door,” Ben said. “It was open.” “And?” “And Mrs. Pritchard’s prize recipe book was on the floor. The one she said went missing.” Nora glanced toward the kitchen, where Mrs. Pritchard’s blue umbrella stood drying beside the oven. “She was here at six,” Nora said. “Picked up a loaf and told me she was taking the early bus to her sister’s.” “Did she?” “I watched the bus leave. She wasn’t on it.” Ben reached for a currant bun. Nora slid the plate away. “First, we go see whether her umbrella’s still wet.” “It’s right there.” “The handle, Ben. She came in holding it. When she left, she carried the loaf in both hands.” They looked at the umbrella. A small brass key hung from its curved handle.