Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HVC7Z11MGJGF6WZYHANHJ

At half past six, the bell above the bakery door gave its familiar jingle. Mrs. Bellwether stepped inside, shaking rain from her umbrella. “You’re early.” “So are you. Why is the window full of wedding cakes?” “Because someone ordered one, then vanished before paying the deposit.” “In Willowby? People don’t vanish. They go to their sister’s and forget to tell anyone.” “Then why did I find this under the cake stand?” A small silver key lay on the flour-dusted counter. Its bow was shaped like a robin. “That’s the key to the library’s rare-book cabinet.” “How can you tell?” “I donated the cabinet. Look—the robin has a crooked beak.” Outside, rain tapped against the striped awning. Inside, the ovens warmed the room with the scent of cinnamon and butter. “The librarian came in yesterday. She bought two currant buns and asked whether anyone had mentioned a wedding.” “Did she say whose?” “No. But she looked awfully pleased when I said I hadn’t heard a thing.” Mrs. Bellwether picked up the key by its ribbon. “We ought to return it.” “After breakfast?” “Especially after breakfast. If there’s a secret wedding, I won’t have it interrupted by either of us fainting from hunger.” They shared a currant bun while the rain slowed, each carefully avoiding the question of who might be getting married.