My Boss’s Wife Called Me a Thief in Front of Customers

were kind.

“Mary,” he said. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

Before I could respond, Mrs. Whitman came out of the back room. The moment she saw me, her expression hardened. “Oh,” she said flatly. “You.”

I said nothing.

Mr. Harris looked between us, then asked the question no one at that store had ever bothered to ask before.

“Mary, why did you really leave?”

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