“Depends,” I said. “Are you about to tell me I broke a rule?”
He smiled without humor. “I’m about to tell you you’re… kind of a situation.”
I stared at him.
He gestured toward the front of the store. “That shelf—people love it. People hate it. Corporate is calling. Customers are calling. Someone called it ‘a kindness trap.’ Someone called it ‘a theft buffet.’ Someone said we’re making a political statement.”
“I didn’t make any statement,” I said.
“I know,” he said quickly. “But the internet doesn’t care what you meant. They care what they can make it mean.”
I felt that familiar heat again.
“Are you taking it down?” I asked.
He hesitated.
And that hesitation was an answer.
“We might have to move it,” he said. “For… safety.”
“What safety?” I snapped. “It’s diapers.”
Dan’s eyes flicked around. “People are filming,” he said. “People are arguing. We had a guy yesterday shouting at a woman who took formula. We had a lady trying to ‘catch’ someone taking too much. She followed them to the parking lot. It got ugly.”
My stomach dropped.
The shelf hadn’t just gathered food.
It had gathered the worst instincts, too.