"Toby," Elias said, turning slowly in his swivel chair. "Do you know what 'annoy' means?"

Toby stopped mid-whistle, his cleaning rag frozen. "Uh, like when my sister hides my phone?"

Elias gripped his tweezers tighter. Focus, he told himself. He lowered the hairspring into place. Wheeze-puff. Wheeze-puff.

Elias put his forehead against the floor. Some days, the world was just one giant, persistent itch.

Toby looked at the floor, then back at Elias, his eyes wide. "I... I can help find it? I have a magnet!"

Elias lived for silence. As a professional watchmaker, his world was measured in microns and the nearly imperceptible snick-snick of escapement wheels. He was currently in the final hour of restoring a 19th-century Breguet, a piece of mechanical poetry so delicate that a heavy sneeze could ruin a week's work. Then came the whistling.

"Almost, Mr. E!" Toby chirped, followed by a wet, clicking sound as he popped a piece of gum. "Just making sure I get into the nooks. And the crannies. Can't forget the crannies." Snap.