I'm standing in the candy aisle, my fingers dancing between a Butterfinger and a Baby Ruth, when I notice the display of gummy bears. Maybe I should mix it up? Gummy worms? Those sour patch things?
A flash of bright pink catches my eye. A pretty Asian girl, maybe ten years old, reaches for a bag of Skittles. Her entire outfit is a celebration of pink—from her sparkly t-shirt to her ruffled skirt. But it's her shoes that make me smile: flower-covered Vans sneakers with tiny daisies and roses dancing across the canvas.
"I love your shoes," I tell her, pointing to her feet. "And your whole outfit, actually. Pink is my absolute favorite color."
The girl's face lights up. "Thank you! My mom says I wear too much pink, but I think there's no such thing."
"There definitely isn't," I agree, grabbing the Butterfinger. "Pink is perfect for everything."
"I'm getting Skittles," she announces, holding up the bag. "What are you getting?"
I show her my candy stash. "I was thinking about gummies too, though, “but I’ve already got Twizzlers.”
"You should get both," she says with the confidence only children possess. "That's what I tell my mom when she can't decide."
Her mother, standing a few feet away, rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "And that's why we always leave with twice as much as we need."
We all smile, and I extend my hand to the girl. "I'm Liza."
"I'm Emmy," she says, shaking my hand with surprising firmness. "This is my mom, Eileen."
Eileen offers a friendly wave. "Nice to meet you.”
I find it odd to see them here at such an hour. Almost as if reading my mind, Eilleen says, “We’re back from a sleepover gone wrong. Tween girl drama…” she explains with a roll of her eyes. “Emmy couldn’t stay the night… so we’re getting her a treat to cheer her up.”
“”Oh… I’m sorry, Emmy. That—”
EVERYBODY DOWN! NOBODY MOVES!"
The scream tears through the store like a bullet. My heart stops, then pounds double-time. The candy bar slips from my fingers and hits the linoleum with a dull thud.
Eileen moves with terrifying speed, yanking Emmy against her and dropping to the floor. She reaches for my arm, trying to pull me down too, but I'm frozen, my muscles refusing to cooperate.
"Get down," she hisses, her long-nailed fingers digging into my wrist.
My knees finally unlock. I crumple to the floor beside them, my mind racing with one horrifying thought—the beautifulstranger with the dark eyes is still by the refrigerators. On the other side of the store.
Near whoever is screaming.
CHAPTER TWO
I'm rooted to the linoleum floor while my brain struggles to catch up with what's happening. Emmy and her mom are already flat against the ground, their bodies pressed into the narrow space between candy displays.
I flatten myself beside them. The cold floor presses against my arms. My heart hammers so hard I swear the vibrations might give us away. Is this really happening? A robbery? Here? In this random convenience store on a Friday night?
"Listen up!" The man's voice echoes through the store. "We don't want to hurt anybody, understand? Everyone stays down, keeps quiet, and cooperates—everyone goes home safe. Simple as that."
His voice doesn't sound as threatening as I expected. Almost reassuring in a twisted way. Like he's practiced this speech, rehearsed it until it sounds almost reasonable.
I need to see what's happening.
Eileen must sense my intention because her hand shoots out, gripping my arm. "Don't," she whispers, barely audible.
But curiosity burns through my fear. I need to know. Is the cashier okay? What about the others? What about the man from the drinks section—the one with the dark eyes and easy smile?
"I'll be careful," I whisper, gently pulling my arm free.
"Please don't," Eileen pleads, but I'm already moving.
