The arrogant sneer vanished from the manager’s face, leaving him a sickening, chalky white.
“M-Mrs. Ellis?” he stammered, stepping back so fast he knocked over a display of breath mints.
Margaret’s frail, trembling act instantly evaporated. She stood tall, tossing her crumpled “prescription” onto the glass counter. It wasn’t a medical slip. It was a highly classified forensic audit.
Arthur, the billionaire CEO, stepped inside, his eyes locked on the manager. “We’ve been hunting a ghost skimming thousands from our registers. My mother insisted on flushing out the rat herself.”
The manager tugged at his red tie, sweating through his light blue shirt. He panicked, pointing a shaking finger at Noah. “It was him! The kid’s the thief! I was just about to fire him!”
“Quiet,” Margaret snapped, her voice like cracking ice. “I already traced your fake invoices. The police are waiting in the alley.”
The manager bolted for the front door, only to freeze as red-and-blue police lights sliced through the rainy night.
Noah stood paralyzed behind the register, his debit card still in his hand. “Wait,” he breathed. “If you already knew he was guilty… why did you say on the phone you were looking for me?”
Margaret turned to the teenager, her icy demeanor melting into a warm, genuine smile. “Because while tracking the missing money, I noticed something else. A mysterious bank card secretly paying off the minor register shortages so the junior staff wouldn’t get blamed and fired by him.”
She gently tapped Noah’s plastic card. “I had to find out who owned it. When you swiped it to save a stranger tonight, my terminal flagged the matching numbers.”
Arthur grinned, tossing a heavy set of keys onto the counter. “Take off the green polo, Noah. You’re running this store now.”