So, We’ve Got a Problem

It’s Probably Nothing, But It Might Be Everything

The shop had calmed, but only on the surface.

Illo peeked out from his frame, his painted eyes sharp, hair slightly askew in his brushstrokes. He turned to the candles sitting on a counter by the window.

“Have you seen Beau? We sort of lost him. I have the hope he went back here before… yeah, well. Nevermind. Have you seen him?”

The candle beside Augustus…