He was almost to the mall doors when the sweaty hand caught him from behind, its fat fingers digging deep into his shoulder—

But maybe we should start a few hours earlier:

Jane's text said:

I dunno, just buy me something nice

And Lem stared at his phone, imagining all the nice things he could buy for her, if only he could afford them. Jewelry, perfume, designer handbags. If only he had more money. If only his family wasn't so dirt poor.

A sudden wailing cut short his daydreams.

It was his little sister, Jewel.

He pocketed the phone, hanging on to his fantasies for just a short while longer, letting all the soft, imagined images fade gently away, before descending the stairs to the living room.

Jewel was sobbing in front of the couch, on which their mother, Marcia, lay motionless.

"She's… dead," the girl managed to say between sobs.

Lem crouched and gave his little sister a hug. "She's not dead," he assured her. "She's just tired, so she's sleeping. You know how hard mom works. She needs her rest."

It was true: their mom did work a lot. Three part-time jobs at last count, at odd hours for shitty employers at minimum wage. Sometimes she got tired. At other times, Lem knew, she took pills precisely because she couldn't sleep. Sometimes they knocked her out for hours.

But at least Jewel had stopped crying.

Now she looked up at Lem with big, glassy eyes, and said with a guilt no child should ever feel, "I'm hungry."

Lem checked the fridge, but it was as empty as a strip mall parking lot on Easter Sunday.

"What do you want to eat?"

Jewel thought for a bit. "Burgers and fries," she said, letting the sentence linger hungrily in the air, unfinished—and, when Lem didn't say anything back, "and pizza!" she finished with all the enthusiasm she could muster.

On the couch, their mother stirred and moaned.

"I'll see what I can do," Lem said. "Wait here, and give mom some water when she wakes up, OK? Sleeping makes her thirsty."

Jewel nodded.

Lem was out the door with his hands in his pockets, fishing for bills. He only found a few, and they didn't amount to much. How am I supposed to buy something nice when we have to scrounge for food, he thought. But he knew that in the contest between Jewel and Jane, Jewel would always win. That this made him a good brother was small consolation when it meant he wouldn't get to go out with Jane. Sure, maybe Jane wasn't the best kind of girl. After all, she had effectively demanded he buy her a gift in exchange for the pleasure of her company. But she was hot, and he was young, and who else would give a chance to a destitute loser like him?

The mall air was cold, impersonal and oversaturated with muzak.

Lem bought the burger and fries at the food court, counted his change, then picked up a slice of cheese pizza.

It was on the way to the mall exit that the jewelry store caught his attention. Not even the store, really. What was happening inside: one attendant, three customers, and an assortment of shiny pieces of jewelry spread haphazardly on trays in front of them. The attendant couldn't have eyes on everything. Lem hesitated, feeling the warmth of the fast food he was carrying, remembering the text from Jane, thinking about his overworked mom. Then: screw it, he thought. Maybe these two birds could be killed with one stone!

He went in.

The jewelry store attendant drifted tiredly toward him. "What can I do for you today?" she asked.

Lem eyed the other customers. "I'm looking for a birthday gift for my girlfriend," he said. "Maybe like a necklace or something."

"Our necklaces are over here," the attendant said, turning, expecting him to follow.

He obediently did.

A minute later, half a dozen cheap but golden necklaces had been laid out in front of him, and he had made sure to keep asking the attendant to put out one or another, then put it back, and so on, and so forth, hoping she would lose count and misremember how many necklaces were actually out.

Pretending to inspect the pieces, Lem waited.

He turned them over in his hands.

He admired them.

Until the magic words came:

"Excuse me, miss?" one of the other customers was saying—

And the attendant turned her head—

And with remarkable dexterity and swiftness, Lem grabbed the nearest necklace and dropped it into the fast food bag.

The attendant refocused her attention on him, gesturing at the other customer as if to say, Can't you see I'm understaffed here? Help a girl out by making up your damn mind.

Lem smiled a gentleman's smile before saying, cool as cucumber water on a winter morning, "You know what, on second thought I don't think I want any of them."

The attendant shoved the necklaces back into place.

Lem was out of the store.

The stolen necklace weighed somewhat on his conscience, but the thoughts of Jane's lips were far more important. He was already thinking of what to text her back, imagining her expression when he showed her the necklace. He was almost to the mall doors when the sweaty hand caught him from behind, its fat fingers digging deep into his shoulder—