Standing towering above her, leaning forward with her body rigid and her hand outstretched in an accusing gesture, was Victoria Vance.
Victoria was fifty-eight, wearing a tailored cream tweed blazer over tailored cream slacks, her neck adorned with three strands of cultured pearls. Her manicured hand, tipped with sharp French tips, jabbed violently toward Cricket’s nose.
"You stole that toy!" Victoria screamed, her voice intentionally projected to reach the gathering crowd of onlookers who were already pulling out their smartphones to record. "I saw you take it right out of my grandson's stroller! Someone call security immediately!"
Cricket’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. She backed up onto her heels, her knees scraping against the hard floor. The yellow toy felt like a hot iron in her palm.
"I did not steal it!" Cricket gasped, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and profound indignation. Tears instantly welled in her wide brown eyes, glistening under the atrium lights before a single droplet escaped and rolled down her cheek. "Check the cameras! They will prove that I am telling the truth!"
"Don't you dare talk back to me!" Victoria barked, turning to the surrounding crowd with a dramatic, hand-on-chest gasp. "She took it straight from a five-year-old child! These maintenance workers think they can just pocket whatever falls on the floor!"