Run: 2026-10-07-01M4AV2N674YJDXWX3F5R8W1W3

The bell above the door chimed, scattering flour across the marble counter. "You left the back door unlocked again." "Did I? Hm. Must've been the wind." "Wind doesn't pour three cups of flour onto Mrs. Henderson's prize-winning pie crust." "It was an accident. I swear." "Three accidents this week. The register was short exactly forty-seven dollars Tuesday. The yeast supply vanished Thursday. And now—" She slid a photograph across the counter. A woman in a lavender coat, laughing, accepting a box of cinnamon rolls at closing time. "This is the third time we've seen her lurking." "I thought she looked familiar." "She stays at the Willowbrook Inn. Room 4B." "Just a coincidence." "She asked about the sourdough starter recipe yesterday. The one you keep locked in the safe." The bell chimed again. They both turned toward the door. "Stay behind the counter," she whispered, arranging a tray of scones with shaking hands. "Smile." "I don't know how to smile when someone's stealing my life, my recipes, my—" "Just try. And if she orders the key lime tart—" "Don't give it to her?" "Give it to her. But watch her hands. Watch everything."