3: 3

3.

I was furious.

"You can't see my mother's bleeding?"

"She has a clotting disorder. One second late to the hospital and it could kill her!"

Gayle only rolled her eyes, not the least bit concerned.

"Her bleeding is my problem how?"

"Even if she dropped dead right here, the bill still has to be paid. Or do you think checking into the morgue wipes out a debt?"

Her words were vile, and I couldn't help clenching my fist.

But my mother weakly tugged at the hem of my shirt.

I knew what she meant.

Years ago my father had lost his temper during an argument and raised his hand.

He'd only given the man a light shove, but the man had a heart attack and died on the spot.

For that he was thrown in prison, and not long after, a serious illness took him there.

It wasn't until the second year after his death that a kind lawyer finally overturned the case.

But by then it was all too late.

I drew a deep breath, forced the anger back down, and said Gayle should call an ambulance so my mother could go to the hospital first.

I would stay behind and deal with the bill.

But Gayle wouldn't let it go. She spread her arms like a hen guarding her chicks and planted herself in the doorway of the security room.

"No way! Either you pay, or you and your mother sit right here."

"Who's to say you didn't stage this whole sob story to skip out on the bill? You country types have the most tricks up your sleeves!"

My mother was bleeding more and more, and the hand that had been gripping my shirt to keep me from doing something rash went limp and fell away.

I had no choice but to shove past Gayle and force my way out.

But the moment I got my mother out of the security room, before I even reached the mall's main doors, several men with riot forks pinned me to the ground.

I did everything I could to shield my mother so she didn't hit the floor again and take a second injury.

But my own wrist jammed against the ground under their rough handling, twisting into a grotesque angle.

The pain broke me out in a cold sweat, yet the man who'd done it showed no trace of apology. Instead he looked at me and my mother like we were garbage.

"I've seen plenty of people trying to skip a bill, but this is the first time I've seen someone drag their own mother into it."

"Times that hard? Pulling a stunt like this with your own elderly mother, aren't you ashamed!"

"I'm not skipping any bill!" I denied it on reflex.

The man in front of me snatched the bill from Gayle's hand and shoved it in my face.

"Still saying you're not? Open your eyes and look!"

"Your mother spent one ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine at this store. The clothes were bagged, the tags cut off, and then she turned around and said she didn't want them."

"A mall isn't your playhouse. Either you pay, or neither you nor that old woman is leaving today!"

The man was all bluster and no reason.

No matter how many times I stressed that the moment my mother learned the actual price didn't match the tag, she'd said she didn't want the clothes.

That she hadn't asked for the tags to be cut, that the clerk, Gayle, had cut them off on her own, too eager with her scissors.

Still he blocked my way and wouldn't let me leave.

"Always a pile of excuses when it's time to pay. I've seen plenty of freeloaders like you!"

"You say your mother didn't ask for the tags to be cut? Where's your proof? Let's see it!"

As a lawyer, presenting evidence is my specialty.

Pull the store's security footage and it would be clear in an instant who was lying.

But my mother couldn't wait.

Watching the blood pour out of her, knowing that if I didn't get her to a hospital I might lose her forever, I could only say coldly:

"I want to see whoever runs this mall!"

The man actually grinned. He straightened his tie and spoke.

"I'm Donald James, I'm the manager of this mall!"

Looking at the smug face of Gayle beside him, I suddenly understood.

Why a lowly mall clerk would so brazenly demand nineteen ninety-nine for a shirt marked ninety-nine.

It wasn't nerve. This mall was rotten from the root.

My temple throbbed. What sanity I had left made me try, one last time, to reason with him.

"Manager James, you should know that inflating prices is illegal."

"So is forcing a sale!"

"Add unlawful detention and deliberate assault, and do you really think that little kickback of yours is enough to cover the damages?"

4: 4

4.

The blood drained out of Donald's face.

Then he pulled out a walkie-talkie and started toward the mall doors.

I thought he was calling for an ambulance.

Figured we were all just people working for a paycheck.

If my mother got out of this safely today, I could let go of the criminal side of it. All I'd want was an apology.

But a second later, every door in the mall locked.

Everyone inside, man or woman, old or young, staff or customer, was sealed in with us.

Panic spread in an instant. Donald, unhurried, lifted a bullhorn and addressed them all.

"Sorry to interrupt everyone's pleasant shopping trip."

"Someone came into our mall to steal, and it's cost us two hundred thousand dollars. She won't take responsibility for it, and now she's trying to run."

"To keep her from getting away with it, no one will be allowed in or out until she pays for the damage. Thank you all for your cooperation and understanding."

I could barely believe my ears.

To keep me from leaving, Donald had locked down an entire mall of people?

The others, trapped against their will, blew up too.

Demanding to know what gave them the right.

"I just came in for a coffee, and I've got to get back to work. If my boss finds out and fires me, are you going to give me my job back?"

"Exactly! I have to drop my son at school. If he's late, is that on you?"

"I only came in for the morning shift and now you've got me stuck here. What, you planning to pay me for the afternoon too?"

The whole crowd was talking at once, but Donald and Gayle just played dumb.

Gayle especially. She wasted no time pinning every bit of it on me.

"It's all because she won't pay and wants to skip the bill. The second she pays, I promise we'll open the doors and let all of you go!"

"I didn't!" I denied it at once.

"You're the ones who jacked up the price. You extorted me first! And you laid hands on my mother."

"She's bleeding badly enough to go into shock. If she doesn't get to a hospital, she's going to die!"

Gayle just kept yelling that I'd failed to steal from them and now I was trying to fake an injury for money.

The standoff dragged, and then someone in the crowd shouted.

"It's not even that much. Just pay it!"

"Right! A mall this size, you think they're going to scam you?"

I wanted to tell them this was worse than a scam.

This was deliberate framing. This was treating a life like it was worth nothing!

But nobody listened to me. They just kept pushing me to hand over the money.

Some of them crowded in and started going through my pockets and my mother's.

When I saw her shoved to the ground, several feet trampling over her, I gave in.

"Fine, I'll pay. It's a hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine, right?"

I pulled out my bank card and was about to pay when Gayle traded a look with Donald.

Then Gayle stepped up and stopped me.

"Hold on, it's not a hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine anymore. It's a million!"

In under ten minutes the number had jumped more than fivefold. My hand paused over the card, and it slipped out.

"You're gouging me?"

Donald corrected me.

"It's not gouging, it's fair compensation."

"You and your mother have been dragging this out for so long, and think how much business you've cost us. A little compensation is only reasonable, isn't it?"

Gayle crossed her arms and chimed in.

"Right, Miss Pruitt, dressed up like you are, don't tell me you'd stiff us over a little money like this?"

Wait.

She called me Miss Pruitt?

I'd never set foot in this mall before, and there was no way I knew her. How did she know my last name?

I glanced at my mother, unconscious on the floor, and my hand drew back from the payment.

"I'm not paying this. You want to hold people, hold them. As long as you like. I don't have a problem with that."