Prologue
It's a rush of adrenaline.
He remembers the rules she taught him as he ducks into the store, quiet as a mouse and scans the aisles for all the items on the list.
It's like a game, she always tells him, and we gotta do it.
Rule number one, he thinks, as he picks up a loaf of bread and tosses it into the rucksack that's almost bigger than him, is that you have to be so quiet. So quiet that you can get in and out without anyone knowing you were ever there.
He tiptoes to reach the soup on the top shelf and drops it in after the bread.
Rule number two: never look suspicious.
He walks with a cause, and he never looks at the cashier, he knows that's what got her into trouble that time.
He gets some eggs, milk, and a treat for both of them.
Rule number three, and this one is important, is that you should never run unless you think it's completely necessary.
He pays for a pack of Cheetos and a bottle of pepsi, because they never seem to find it suspicious when you actually buy something.
And then he walks out with a grin on his face, slowly making his way across the parking lot to where she stays ducked down hidden behind a rose bush. He manages to get all the way to her without even a hint of suspicion and she smiles and ruffles his hair.
"And rule number four, Jude. This one is so important, okay? Don't get made."
"Don't get made?"
"Yeah, it's a cop thing. Don't get caught. Don't let 'em bust you."
"Okay, I'll remember. Rule four: Don't get made."