A teen girl tried to steal a book from our store

about the interview. About the moment everything could have gone wrong but didn’t.

“Yes,” I say softly. “It did.”

She smiles, a little brighter this time.

“Good,” she whispers.

I take a step closer, my chest tight with questions.

“Why me?” I ask. “Why give it to me?”

She studies me for a moment, as if weighing something.

“Because you saw me,” she says simply.continue reading …