Beatrice laughed. “If ten dollars is this difficult for you, maybe turkey soup isn’t what you should be spending money on.”

“My grandson hasn’t eaten properly in two days.”

“That’s not my problem.”

Spotting the store manager nearby, I called to him.

“Excuse me! This woman took every discounted turkey and refused to spare one for a sick child.”

“I’ll look into it,” he said, glancing at Beatrice before walking away.

She rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable. I got here first!”

“And apparently, that’s more important to you than feeding a sick child.”

Beatrice seized her cart. “Remember who my family is!”

Five minutes later, as she approached the aisle’s end, the supermarket speakers crackled.

“Attention, shoppers…”