Run: 2026-10-13-01M4TBGNDW2SZBH7YVZ5Y157B6

The bell above the door at Marigold Lane Bakery had not stopped ringing since seven, but now, at ten, the little shop was finally quiet. Sunlight fell across the glass case of cinnamon rolls and blueberry muffins, and the air smelled of warm butter, vanilla, and strong coffee. “You locked the back door last night, right?” “I always lock it. Why?” “Because it was wide open when I arrived, and the flour bin had been moved.” “Maybe Mr. Henderson came early for his rye bread and—” “Mr. Henderson is eighty-four and uses a cane. He did not move a fifty-pound flour bin.” “Then who did?” “Look, behind the counter.” “Is that mud?” “One footprint. Small. And it smells faintly of lavender.” “Lavender? Only one person in this whole town wears perfume like that.” “Exactly. And she told everyone she was leaving town yesterday.” “So why would she sneak into the bakery in the middle of the night?” “Maybe she forgot something.” “Or maybe she hid something. Check inside the flour.” “You check. Last time I found a mouse.” “That was a toy mouse, and you screamed for ten minutes.” “Fine. Hold the flashlight steady.” “Wait. Do you hear that ticking?” “That is not our oven timer.” “It is coming from inside the bin.”