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“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” Her tone is cold.

“I can get one.” My voice sounds small.

She lets out a short, dismissive breath. “With what insurance? Relax, Kamden. I’m not firing you.”

I look up, surprised. “You’re not?”

She uncrosses her arms. “You missed one shift.”

“I didn’t call on time,” I remind her.

“No, you didn’t, and Michelle had to stay late because of it.”

“I told her I was sorry,” I say quietly.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, I know, Kamden.”

“She told you?”

“She asked me to make you stop.”

Heat flares across my cheeks. “Oh.”

She softens. “Whatever happened Thursday, don’t do it again.”

I nod, my throat feeling raw. “I won’t.”

“Good.” Marla turns, then pauses. “And stop reorganizing the soup.”

I stare at the neatly lined cans. “What’s wrong with it?”

“We stock by brand and type.” Her voice carries the tired patience of someone explaining basic facts to a confused child.

“I know…” I murmur.

“Then why is Amy’s Organic Minestrone next to Campbell’s Beef Barley?”

“It’s alphabetical,” I whisper, suddenly feeling like I’m about to cry.

She looks at me like I’m crazy and asks, “Why?”

I swallow thickly and wring my hands together. “I… don’t know.”

It’s definitely not the answer she wants.

But just then, without warning, there’s a loud crash, and glass explodes against the polished tile. The sound knocks the air from my lungs. My knees slam to the floor before I even realize what’s happening; my hands cover my head, and I curl forward, forehead pressed against the cool metal shelf, heartbeat hammering so hard my vision pulses with each thud. No. No, no—

“Shit!” comes from another aisle.

A child starts wailing, then a woman’s panicked voice scolds, “I told you not to touch it!”

I stay frozen, eyes squeezed shut. When I open them, the elderly shopper who’d been studying soup labels is staring down at me, alarm and reproach in her eyes. Marla stands beside her, arms slack now, gaping at me.

I lower my hands, tasting metal on my tongue.

“Must’ve been a jar,” Marla says. Her voice sounds distant, like it’s coming from the far end of a long hallway.