Run: 2026-11-11-01M7547113HR2HM3QCB1VQTKKA

The bell over the door jingled, though it was barely past seven and the whole town was still asleep. The display case glowed beneath yellow bulbs, rows of morning buns dusted with sugar, a tray of blueberry scones still steaming from the oven. The air smelled of vanilla, yeast, and the faint metal tang of rain coming through the cracked window. 'You're early.' 'And the book club can fight me for the last crumb.' 'That's the second morning you've come in before sunrise.' 'Couldn't sleep.' 'My raspberry tarts are still warm. That usually helps.' 'Not with the other thing on my mind.' 'The picnic blanket? Mrs. Abernathy's vanished from her porch on Tuesday. Red and white check.' 'Exactly that. And nobody saw a thing.' 'In Willow Creek? Somebody always sees a thing.' 'Then why is no one talking?' 'Maybe they're protecting someone. Or maybe they think talking will make it real.' 'It already is.' 'Here.' The paper bag was folded shut. 'On the house. Don't tell the book club.' 'They already know. They left a note.' 'What did it say?' 'The note called you sweet on the baker.' 'That's not—' 'It absolutely did.' Outside, the rain began to tap the window.