Much Worse

 In the back seat of a police cruiser, I chewed my bottom lip. How could I tell my parents—my strict parents—I was arrested for shoplifting?

I ran the scene through my head. Dad would shout, tell me I’m no longer accepted in our family, then show me out the front door.

I wondered if any of my friends’ parents would take me in. Or would I have to survive on the street, beg for money and food?

What happened was so much worse.

My father looked at me and said, in a quiet voice, “You really disappointed me.”