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There’s a shuffle through our earpiece, and I pick up my pace, sprinting now. I reach the store in time to see the two men struggling over the backpack. The cashier woman shouts for security into a phone, while I rush inside. Ken pushes the guy with the Dodgers hat down, grabs the backpack, and dashes out of the store without even sparing me a glance. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask Ken through the earpiece, while keeping an eye on the guy with the hat. He stands up and looks around, his mouth hanging open. “I’m checking what’s inside this bag,” Ken says, his voice breathless. One of the salesladies asks the man if he’s okay, and he nods. A security guard walks into the store and starts asking the guy some questions. I pretend to check out a red lacy nightie, keeping my head down.
- Writer
