The woman’s smile faded as I got closer, and she took a half step back toward a gray sedan. “Don’t you dare come near me,” she called, her voice suddenly thin. I stopped a few feet away and raised my phone. “I am not going to touch you,” I said calmly. “I am going to show you what the parking lot camera pointed at my car just recorded.” Her eyes dropped to the screen, and the color left her face.

Behind her, the sedan’s door opened, and a young man in a Target vest stepped out, holding a radio. “Ma’am,” he said quietly, “I saw you push that cart. Security is already on the way.” She spun toward him, mouth open. Then I noticed a small boy sitting in the back seat of her car, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes, clutching a juice box.