Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA4Q4VQPXXJ1KBMAFX67Q5

The bell above the door jingled, and the warm smell of cardamom wrapped around the room like a blanket. "You're late," Marnie said, sliding a tray of cinnamon rolls onto the cooling rack. "Third time this week." "Traffic on Maple Street. Someone's cat got stuck in a gutter again." "Hmm. Convenient." "Don't start. I came to ask about the envelope." Flour dusted the counter between them. Marnie wiped her hands slowly on her apron, taking her time. "What envelope?" "The one that vanished from the register Tuesday night. Fifty dollars in it, and a note in your handwriting." "That note was a grocery list." "Was it? Because it said 'pay Harold before Friday,' and Harold is the one who's been selling this bakery its flour at triple price." A long pause. The oven timer ticked down, one second at a time. "You're going to tell me I'm wrong." "I'm going to ask why you didn't just tell me." "Because you'd have looked at me exactly the way you're looking at me now." Marnie pulled a pan of scones from the oven and set it down hard enough to rattle the glass case. "Sit. Eat something. Then we'll talk about who else had a key." "Marnie." "Eat the scone first."