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In the supermarket, my daughter unwrapped a chocolate before we'd paid. I immediately took her to the checkout to apologize and offered to pay. But the cashier pointed at the security monitor and screamed. "So you're the thief who's been stealing thousands of dollars worth of my merchandise!" Then she threw an invoice in my face. "$15,000! Pay now, or I'm calling the police!" I bit back my anger but couldn't help arguing. "But this is our first time here today." She crossed her arms, scanning me with blatant contempt. "My husband owns this whole street. Pay up, or I'll have him sue you!" I laughed, a dry, joyless sound. How was it I didn't know my husband had another wife? Just last month, the rent for every shop on this street was deposited into my account. Every cent, on time. She stood there, arms crossed, chin held high, her voice dripping with contempt. "Stop pretending. Look at yourself, dressed in cheap rags, you're clearly trash. No wonder you raised a thief!" "You're not leaving until you pay. Otherwise, I'll have my husband send you both straight to jail!" With that, she