Shoplyfter - Aubree Ice -

“Sandra,” Morgan said, his voice suddenly formal. “Wait outside.”

She then stood up, walked to a rack of cheap umbrellas by the exit, and pretended to take one. She didn’t. But Sandra saw what she wanted to see: a girl with shifty eyes and a bag that looked too heavy. Shoplyfter - Aubree Ice

“I said wait outside.”

Morgan leaned back. The chair creaked. “Aubree. Pretty name. You know why you’re here?” “Sandra,” Morgan said, his voice suddenly formal

She saw the floorwalker, Sandra, a woman with sensible shoes and a permanent furrow in her brow, pretending to fold scarves twenty feet away. Aubree smiled. Amateur. But Sandra saw what she wanted to see:

Aubree looked down at her tote bag. Then back up at him. A single, perfect tear welled in the corner of her eye. “I didn’t take anything,” she whispered. “But if you don’t believe me… search me.”

She slid it across the desk.