“Okay.”
“And the lady took out her phone,” Zoe said. “And she put it on the shelf. Leaning against the apple juice. Like this.”
She held up her hand. Tilted. Like a phone propped up on a stand.
“Facing the cart,” Zoe said.
I didn’t say anything.
“And then she looked around,” Zoe said. “Like this. Both ways. Like she was checking if anybody was watching.”
She turned her head left. Then right. Exaggerated.
“And then she put her hand on the cart,” Zoe said. “The big cart. With all the juice on it. And she pushed it.”
My stomach went cold.
“She pushed it,” I said.
“Hard,” Zoe said. “With her hand. On the side. Like this.”
She shoved her open palm forward. Into the air.
“And the cart tipped,” Zoe said. “And all the bottles on top fell off. Crash. And Henry jumped. And almost fell off his ladder.”
