“Why would she do that?”
I didn’t have an answer.
I stood up.
I took her hand.
“Come on,” I said. “We’re going to tell the manager. Everything. And you’re going to tell him yourself.”
“Me?”
“You,” I said. “You saw it. Not me. You’re the witness.”
Zoe looked terrified.
“What if I get it wrong?”
“Then you tell the truth,” I said. “Even the parts you’re not sure about. That’s all a witness does.”
I knocked on the door that said STORE MANAGER.
A man opened it.
Fifties. Big. Barrel-chested. A gray beard trimmed short. Reading glasses on a cord around his neck. A green Lakeview Foods polo shirt stretched over his stomach. A name tag.
TERRENCE — STORE MANAGER.
He looked at me. Then at Zoe.
“Can I help you?” he said.
“There’s a situation,” I said. “In the juice aisle. Aisle seven. A customer’s screaming at one of your employees. Henry.”
