Alan froze, his hand still clutching a stolen item. Sam stumbled backward, knocking over a stack of boxes. Winner, caught in the act of stuffing his bag, looked like a deer caught in headlights.Time hung suspended as Micah's gaze bore into each of them. Alan's palms grew clammy, Winner stammered incoherently, and Sam's face paled. The air was thick with tension as guilt painted their expressions, a tableau of wrongdoing.Micah's voice sliced through the silence, demanding an explanation. The three of them exchanged furtive glances, unable to conjure a convincing response. The room felt smaller, the weight of their misdeeds pressing down on them.In that stolen moment of confrontation, fear etched lines on Alan, Winner, and Sam's faces, weaving an unforeseen twist into the story of their ill-fated heist."Why are you doing this, guys?" Micah asked.Panicking, Alan stammered, "Micah, it's not what it looks like! I was just rearranging the inventory for better organization. You see, I n
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