Samantha looked around anxiously. It was nothing for Mr. Reynolds not to lock everything in the front display cases before heading to the back. She tapped her foot impatiently on the worn hardwood floor of the jewelry store. The minutes seemed endless. Why was it taking so long?
From the back room, she could hear tools being shoved and Mr. Reynolds muttering under his breath. Occasionally a muffled swear word reached her ears. She looked up at the old cuckoo clock hanging on the wall opposite her. It had been ten minutes since Mr. Reynolds disappeared behind the curtain. A nervous energy began to build within her.
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