My daughter’s whisper kept echoing in my mind as we walked toward the manager’s office. She had watched the woman reach for a juice bottle at the bottom of a stack on the cart, while the young worker was turned away. The whole stack slid and crashed onto the floor. The woman had stepped back, said nothing, and waited until he came running to start screaming at him.

The manager looked up as I knocked. “A customer wants your employee fired,” I said. “Before you decide anything, please check your cameras for aisle six.” He frowned, turned his monitor, and began typing. Then the angry woman stormed in behind us with her arms crossed and a smirk. “Did she tell you what that boy did?” she snapped. The manager did not answer. He pressed play, and the color drained from her face.