Run: 2026-10-20-01M5C6KSCTH9S3HV7JC5YGX2MX

The bakery smelled of cinnamon and warm yeast, and the morning had barely cracked the windows. A tray rattled behind the counter. “The oven’s been warm since five, and someone left the back door unlatched.” “Unlatched, or politely opened?” “Don’t you start. My cinnamon rolls are accounted for, but Tuesday’s page is missing from the ledger.” “Tuesday we sold forty-two scones and one very suspicious meat pie.” “That pie was for the church fundraiser.” “And the page?” “Under the flour bin. With a thumbprint in raspberry jam.” “Raspberry? We haven’t made raspberry since June.” “Exactly. So either the ghost of summer is shoplifting recipes, or someone wants us to think the thief got sticky.” “Could be the new delivery boy. He whistles off-key and won’t go near the flour bin.” “He brought a crate of raspberries this morning. Called it a gift.” “Then we lock the back door, count the scones twice, and ask why a gift came with a missing page.” Outside, the town clock struck seven, a little too innocently. “And if that rolling pin is for the delivery boy, I’m calling the constable.” “Cozy. Very cozy. Hand it over.”