Run: 2026-10-06-01M48W5B199D2FFBJ2KYF82A30

The bell above the door chimed, and cinnamon warmth wrapped around her like a familiar quilt. "Morning, Clara. The sourdough's still sleeping, but the blueberry muffins are ready." "Perfect. I'll take two and a coffee, black." "Black? You're killing me." "Someone has to keep you on your toes." She slid onto the worn wooden stool, watching flour dust motes dance in the morning light. Through the kitchen window, she could see him shaping dough with hands that had done this for forty years. "That new girl in the post office? Asking questions about the Henderson place again." "Third time this week." "Nosy type." "Or scared." The coffee arrived, steam curling between them. Outside, a robin landed on the windowsill, tilting its head. "Remember when we thought this town held no secrets?" "Remember when we were young enough to believe that?" The bell chimed again. They both turned, smiling despite themselves, as the morning crowd began to arrive.