“I was just… looking,” Chauncy said finally. The words came out wrong. Too quick. Too unsure. Even he didn’t believe them. The manager’s expression didn’t change. “Looking for what?” Chauncy’s throat tightened. He could feel people watching now. Not openly—but enough. A glance here. A pause there. Too many eyes. “I—I was just seeing if anyone needed help,” he said, correcting himself. “Carrying groceries. I do it outside sometimes.”
The manager took a step closer. Not aggressive. But close enough. “I saw you,” he said. “Dropped something.” Chauncy’s stomach dropped. “And picked it up real fast.” The words landed heavy. “And what’s in your pockets?” Now the question hit harder. Not just suspicion. Evidence. Chauncy’s hand moved slightly on instinct—too late to stop it.
The manager noticed. Of course he did. “Go ahead,” he said. “Take it out.”