Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DABSAM9RXNGNV1T63X6BVW

"You're out of cinnamon rolls again," Mabel said, peering into the empty glass case. "Somebody bought the last dozen before opening." Thea wiped flour from her hands onto her apron. "Did you see who?" "Gray coat. Hat pulled low. Paid in exact change." "Nobody pays in exact change anymore." "Exactly." Thea reached beneath the counter and pulled out a crumpled receipt, smudged with blueberry jam. "Found this in the register drawer. Someone wrote on the back." "Read it." "'Meet me at the mill after the bell. Bring what you owe.'" Mabel leaned closer. "Who signs a note like that?" "Someone who expected the baker to be too busy to notice." The bell above the door jingled. Both women turned. A man in a gray coat stood in the doorway, hat in hand, eyes fixed on the empty case. "Morning," he said. "Heard you had cinnamon rolls." "We did," Thea said slowly. "Funny thing about those." "Funny," Mabel agreed, sliding the receipt into her pocket. "Sit down. We'll find you something sweet."