Free Origins of the Outbreak by Brian Parker

which helped the yeast in the bagels rise.  She shoved that rack inside the oven and closed the door, setting the timer for thirteen minutes before she went back to setting frozen pastries on trays that slid into a baking rack.  Once the pastries were warmed to room temperature under the plastic bag, they’d be ready to go into the oven.
    Robin had worked at the bagel and pastry shop for more than two years.  She started right after she graduated high school and her father told her that he couldn’t afford to send her to college, even though she’d been accepted to the University of Texas in Austin.  She grew up in a well-off cattle family, but years of droughts and bad farming decisions had pretty much bankrupted her parents, but the federal government didn’t see it that way.  When she applied for student loans, her family’s gross income was too high to qualify for anything.  They didn’t even bother to ask where the “income” went – it all went towards the farm – they just disqualified her outright.
    So she did what any proud Texan would do, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.  In the two years, she’d saved enough money to pay for the first three years in one of the smaller UT-affiliated schools, but only enough for the first year at the main UT campus.  When Robin saw the price difference and thought about how hard she’d worked – both at this job and as a waitress during lunch at the diner – she couldn’t justify going to the larger school.  In the end, she’d have her degree and most people wouldn’t care where it came from.
    She thought about her list of chores to do this morning once her shift ended at the bakery, but before it started at the diner.  She needed to go to the bank and deposit her check and she had to go pay her water bill.  Otherwise, she had the remaining four hours between shifts all to herself.  She sidestepped over to check the cinnamon rolls that she'd pulled out of the oven fifteen minutes ago.  She always gave them an initial spatula of cream cheese icing right when they came out of the oven – that allowed the gooey consistency that the customers had come to expect – but once they cooled she used a thicker traditional icing to make the raised lines of sugary goodness that the bakery was famous for.
    By the time she was done with the cinnamon rolls, the alarm was once again going off for the new batch of bagels to come out of the oven.  A noise at the front door startled her and she whipped her head around to see Babbette tapping on the window.  Robin smiled at her and walked around the counter.
    Babbette was the morning setup employee for the bakery.  She'd spend about an hour or so placing all the pastries, bread and bagels that Robin had baked overnight into the bakery cases.  The baker unlocked the glass door to let her in.  “Good morning , Babbette.”
    “Hey,” the older woman replied.  “I don't know what's good about it.”
    “What do you mean?  The weather's nice and mild, the birds are singing-”
    “The cops are keeping me up,” Babbette interrupted her.
    “Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.  Sucks. Why were the cops out?”
    “I don't know.  They were running all over town last night.  We tried to see if the radio would say anything, but they only played music.  I'm just tired and cranky,” she smiled slightly, which was about all Robin had ever been able to get her to do.  “You're right; it is a pretty morning out.”
    Robin made sure to lock the door behind Babbetteand rushed back to the oven.  She needed to get another rack in before she got behind.  Delays in the shop had a way of building up and before you knew it, the store would be open withou t all of th e products available.
    She pulled the finished rack out and slid another onto the bar in its place.  After she set the timer she grabbed her clipboard and walked towards the front door.  “Hey, since it's such a nice morning, I'm gonnago sit outside to go