Hearing the noise, the manager, Ms. Lauren Hayes, stepped out of her office.
“What’s going on here?”
“I was removing this homeless kid,” the guard muttered. “He’s disturbing customers.”
“I’m not,” Ethan said quietly. Then he pulled a wrinkled pawn ticket from his pocket.
“I’m here to get my mom’s necklace back.”
Ms. Hayes examined the ticket. A gold necklace with a small medallion, pawned the previous year.
“Interest has added up,” she said gently. “You need $480. Are you sure you have that?”
Ethan pointed at the coins. His hands were scarred and rough.
“There’s $512. I counted three times.”
Her eyes widened. “Where did all this come from?”
“I collect cans and bottles,” he said, lowering his head. “For a year.”
Then his voice trembled.
“My mom pawned it when I got sick. She needed medicine. That necklace was from my grandma. Tomorrow’s her birthday.”
Silence fell over the shop.
The same customers who had scowled now wiped their eyes. Frank dropped his baton, ashamed.
Ms. Hayes retrieved the necklace from the safe—a simple gold chain with a medallion. She placed it in a red velvet box and slid it toward the boy.
“Take it,” she said softly.
Ethan pushed the coins forward. “This is the payment.”