When a pair of cute shoes in a store window caught Harley’s eye, she almost squealed. Then she caught a glimpse of the price tag, and her grin faded. Too expensive, part of her said. The other part said that they were really cute and she wanted them. She knocked lightly on the glass to see how thick it was. The window wouldn’t be hard to break. Then she’d be off, a new pair of shoes included.
But then she stopped herself. She had yet to be arrested in Fake York, and was a pair of shoes really worth breaking that streak? Prison was never fun, and she was in no hurry to go back. Not if it wasn’t worth it. So she sighed, said “Oh well. Someday,” to the shoes, and turned around to head off. Until she heard a noise.
“Hey! I know someone’s there! What’s the deal? I didn’t do anything -- didn’t even touch ‘em! I can’t be in trouble yet!”









