“So I've heard,” he said. He rocked back on his heels a little, surveying the room. There was a lot in a general store that could be made into a weapon if one was so inclined; Atlas made note of each and every item. If he had to defend himself, there were worse places than a general store.
Turning his gaze back to the girl, he said, “She's in good hands. Safe with family and friends, at least. I'd be happy to see her, but devastated if it was here.” He sighed and reached out, running his hand over the counter as though to give himself a focus for his thoughts. In reality, he was testing for sturdiness.
“Anyway. I suppose it's for the best. Maybe we could start a Grieving Parents Anonymous or somesuch.” He gave her a sad sort of smile, looking back up once more. “I miss her, you know, but—like you said. This isn't the place for an innocent soul. It's not even a place for the rest of us.”