PART 2
The officer walked up the steps. Young. Polite. Tired.
“Ma’am, this gentleman says you took property from his store.”
I held out the jar.
“A little boy left this on my counter last night. It’s his grandfather’s coin collection. I came here to give it back to him.”
I handed it to Micah. He hugged it to his chest.
The officer looked at the jar. Then at Micah. Then at the hospital bed in the living room behind him. Then at Corbin.
“Sir,” he said slowly, “you called the police because she returned a child’s jar of coins? To the child?”
“Lost property belongs to the store,” Corbin said. “That’s policy.”
“Not in Indiana, it doesn’t,” the officer said. “It belongs to the owner. And the owner is right here.”
Corbin opened his mouth. Then closed it.
The officer wished us a good day and left. Corbin left with him, red in the face.
