Page 194 of Knot Baked Out For This
"Hazel Holloway?"
"Unfortunately."
"Sign here."
I sign, he leaves, and I'm left staring at an envelope with the Oakridge Municipal Court seal that makes my stomach drop somewhere around my knees.
The ghost cookies can wait.
I tear it open with shaking hands, reading words that don't make sense at first because surely—surely this is a joke.
EMERGENCY HEARING
RE: HAZEL'S HEARTH & HOME BAKERY
OCTOBER 31ST, 10:00 AM
MANDATORY ATTENDANCE REQUIRED
"What the actual fuck?"
"Language!" Mila calls from the front, where she's setting up the Halloween display. "We have a reputation!"
"We're about to lose it, apparently!" I wave the paper like it's cursed. "I have a court thing! Today! In four hours!"
She appears in the doorway, still wearing her "Witch Better Have My Cookies" apron, face shifting from amused to concerned in record time. "A court thing? Like, legal trouble court thing?"
"I don't know! It just says emergency hearing regarding the bakery!" I read it again, hoping the words will rearrange themselves into something less terrifying. "Why would there be an emergency hearing? I pay my taxes! My permits are current! I haven't poisoned anyone—recently!"
"That recent qualifier is concerning."
"Mila!"
"Calling the pack!" She's already got her phone out, fingers flying. "This is definitely a pack emergency. Maybe they're giving you a key to the town?"
"At a mandatory emergency hearing?"
"Rich people are weird?"
Thirty minutes later, I'm in my apartment trying to figure out what one wears to a surprise court appearance when three Alphas burst through the door like they're responding to a five-alarm fire.
Which, given Rowan's profession, might be accurate.
"Explain," Rowan demands, still in his station uniform, apparently mid-shift when he got Mila's text.
"I can't! I don't know what's happening!" I gesture at my closet, which is currently exploding its contents onto my bedroom floor. "Do I wear the dress? Is this a dress thing? Should I look professional? Apologetic? I don't even know what I'm apologizing for!"
"You're not apologizing for anything," Luca says firmly, already moving to my closet with the efficiency of someone who's seen me have clothing crises before. "You've done nothing wrong."
"Then why the emergency hearing?"
"Could be anything. Permit review, health inspection follow-up, noise complaints from Mrs. Patterson about the 3 AM mixer."
"That was ONE TIME!"
"She's filed three complaints," Levi says helpfully, scrolling through his phone. "I have alerts set up. You're Oakridge famous now, sunshine. People notice things."
"Great. Fantastic. I'm going to court because Mrs. Patterson doesn't appreciate artisanal baking hours."
