I stared at the bracelet.
I’d spent two weeks arguing with the retailer about that order.
“I gave them a bad review because of you.”
Denise started crying again. “I’m sorry.”
I believed she was sorry.
I just wasn’t sure whether she was sorry she’d done it or sorry we had cameras now.
I picked up the bags. “I’m still making a report.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“I need a record of this.”
“But I gave everything back.”
“Everything you admitted to taking.”
“You said if I gave it back—”
“I said I wanted my things back. I never promised there wouldn’t be consequences.”
She looked at Ryan.
He shook his head. “Don’t.”
We went home.
I contacted the police through the non-emergency line and provided the videos, delivery records, and list of missing items.
I wasn’t expecting handcuffs and flashing lights.
That wasn’t the point. I wanted documentation.
An officer spoke with both of us later that week. Because of the value involved and the returned property, what happened next was much less dramatic than television would make it.
But Denise understood very clearly that there was now a record.
Ryan and I also gave the footage to the delivery companies when we updated our complaints.
