After installing cameras and alarms, I finally caught the thief on footage—a boy, barely fourteen, with familiar eyes. He was my daughter’s son. Alice had run away fifteen years ago, and I had spent years searching for her.
I followed the boy to a house and found Alice, now grown and living nearby. Travis admitted he stole to help with their money problems. Alice tearfully explained she left because she thought I hated her.
We hugged, and all the years of pain melted away. Alice promised to take care of Travis, and I realized—if he hadn’t stolen from my store, I might never have found my family again.
