6

"Tobias! Hey!"

Nope. Too quiet. Tobias's still busy with the paints and you have no choice but to try again:

"Tobias!"

It's in that exact moment that the owner appears from the back—but he stops in his tracks as you yell loud enough to rattle the beads and pipe cleaners on the shelves. In one movement, Tobias and the owner, an older man about your grandmother's age, turn to face you with near-matching looks of alarm.

In the split second it takes the owner to peer over the counter to see Tobias, he has pulled his hands free of the paint rack—but you can't deny that his stiff posture and too-wide eyes (and whatever the hell you must look like) are a little suspicious.

"Everything all right?" the owner asks after a moment. You're pretty thankful when Tobias takes the lead.

"Um, yeah, Mr. Logan, we're fine—we were just trying to decide, uh, if we needed any paint—but I'm pretty sure Huknock has some at his house. Right?"

You manage a nod—and then just like that, Tobias is thanking the owner and pulling you out of the store by the arm.

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