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Rosie Winkle was a baker with a secret ingredient: moonlight. Every evening, she’d leave her freshly baked Moonbeam Muffins on the windowsill to soak up the gentle glow, making them extra fluffy and slightly shimmery. Tonight, however, disaster had struck. One of her prize Moonbeam Muffins, the biggest and most shimmery of the batch, was gone!

“Oh, crumbs!” Rosie exclaimed, her flour-dusted hands flying to her cheeks. She paced her cozy kitchen, a worried frown creasing her forehead. Who would steal a Moonbeam Muffin? And why?

Her first suspect was Barnaby, the notoriously curious squirrel who lived in the oak tree outside her window. Barnaby had a penchant for anything remotely edible, and his bushy tail was often seen disappearing around corners with suspiciously full cheeks. Rosie tiptoed to the window, peering into the twilight. Sure enough, a faint shimmer, like a tiny disco ball, was reflecting off something in the oak tree.

Rosie, armed with a tiny magnifying glass (for dramatic effect, mostly), ventured outside. “Barnaby, you scoundrel!” she whispered, squinting into the branches. She spotted him, nestled on a branch, meticulously nibbling on… an acorn. And the shimmer? It was just a dewdrop reflecting the last vestiges of twilight.

“Blast and buttercups!” Rosie muttered, feeling a little silly. Back in her kitchen, she slumped onto a stool, her gaze falling upon her sleeping cat, Marmalade. Marmalade, a creature of refined tastes, usually preferred salmon to baked goods. But then Rosie noticed a faint, tell-tale shimmer on Marmalade’s whiskers. And a single, perfectly round crumb on her little pink nose.

Rosie gasped. Marmalade, usually so dignified, had developed a secret love for Moonbeam Muffins! Rosie gently nudged her. Marmalade opened one sleepy eye, purred, and then, to Rosie’s astonishment, let out a tiny, contented burp that smelled faintly of blueberries and moonlight.

Rosie couldn't help but laugh. Her prized muffin hadn't been stolen by a cunning thief, but rather enjoyed by her fluffy feline friend. She picked up Marmalade, giving her a gentle squeeze. “You sneaky little moonbeam muncher,” she chuckled. From that day on, Rosie always baked an extra Moonbeam Muffin, just for Marmalade. And sometimes, she'd catch Marmalade batting playfully at the moonlight on the windowsill, waiting for her special treat.