“Let her go!”
“Your mother's a thief!”
Hand it over!
“She's eighty-five!”
“I saw her slip something into her pocket!”
“She took it from her own bag!”
“Then she can empty her pockets!”
Customers stared. Someone raised a phone.
Your mother's a thief!
“My mother taught children honesty for sixty years!”
“A thief's a thief.”
Mom lowered her eyes. I'd never seen her so humiliated.
Then she straightened. “Release my hand, young man.”
“Ready to confess?”
She can empty her pockets!
“Release it.”
He finally obeyed.
Mom reached into her cardigan.
“Aha! Everyone's about to see what she's hiding!”
But the moment Mom pulled something out and held it toward him, he fell silent.
I'd never seen her so humiliated.
She withdrew a small golden locket.
The guard froze.
Mom opened it.
Inside were photographs of two children, a boy around seven and a little girl.
The guard's face drained of color.
