The man crossed his arms over his chest. Scarlett’s jaw dropped in shock.

“This is Scarlett,” she continued. “We’re transitioning her out of a very bad home environment. Scarlett used to have to steal to feed her brothers and sisters. I’m her one-on-one counselor—just a volunteer—and I take her out and help her develop new, socially acceptable habits. I’ve been trying to teach her how to buy nutritious meals on a budget. I was supposed to be watching, but she’s fast…She’s a good girl, though.”

By now, other people were watching them. All activity in the three closest checkout lanes had stopped. Mrs. Amberson was shaking a little now, like she had truly been rattled by this whole event.

“Please,” she said. “Arresting her won’t do any good. We’ve done so much work to get her out of that part of the system. I’ll…”

She looked around anxiously, then pointed to a wall of paper balloons, each one marking a one dollar donation to a local food bank.

“I’ll pay for the tuna and I’ll buy a hundred of those balloons,” she said. She got out her wallet and pulled out a handful of twenties. “This is my money, and I will give the food bank a hundred dollars. Other people will benefit, along with Scarlett. And she’ll never come back in the store again. Obviously, the counselors and the doctors have some more work to do. But please. The girl stole tuna fish. This is how she used to have to live. She’s not one of these kids that steals for a thrill.”

The man was clearly struggling with this one. He had what he clearly believed was a shoplifter…and one of them was a shoplifter…yet Mrs. Amberson’s apparent anguish had moved him.

“She doesn’t come back here,” he said. “Ever.”

“Understood,” Mrs. Amberson said, shoving the money into his hand.

“You want to sign the balloons?” he asked.

“No. I think we’d better go. Thank you for your understanding.”

She put her arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and pulled her along, out into the blinding sun. She didn’t stop until they were down the block and around the corner, where she threw up her hand for a cab, which she ushered Scarlett into.

“Sixty-ninth and Lexington,” she told the driver. “Mind if I smoke?”

“No,” he answered happily. “I will, too, then. No one ever lets me, you know?”

“Make my day.”

They both lit up. Scarlett sat, still not recovered enough to speak.

“Did you hear that?” Mrs. Amberson said ecstatically. “Did you hear what just came out of my mouth? I haven’t lost a thing. I am going to call my agent and tell him that he has to try to get me some kind of role as a child protection agent or something on Crime and Punishment. Someone who comes on and testifies and looks all shaken up but professional. Trouble is, I think my agent is dead. I guess I need a new one…”

“You stole tuna fish,” Scarlett finally managed. Her voice was loud enough to startle the driver and cause him to slide the panel behind his head shut. “You put it in my bag.”