He slowly shook his head. “No. You’re not in trouble.” I blinked. “I’m… not?” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples, as if the long morning had finally caught up with him. “Technically, company policy says we shouldn’t interfere with customer transactions,” he said. “But managers have some discretion. And this”—he pointed at the paused security footage—“wasn’t stealing or favoritism. You paid for it yourself.” A wave of relief rushed through me so quickly my eyes started to sting. “Then… why did you call me in?” I asked. He opened a drawer and took out a simple…
