“Give it back,” the old woman whispered.
Mack opened her mouth to answer.
Then she kicked one of the photographs across the yard.
It slid almost to my feet.
I looked down.
There was a younger version of the old woman standing beside a man in a military uniform.
They were smiling.
But there was something written on the back.
I couldn’t read it from where I sat.
I picked it up.
For one second, I thought about walking it back to her.
Then I remembered the rule.
Don’t become interesting.
I put the photograph on the ground.
Mack saw me.
“So you saw it?”
I didn’t answer.
She laughed.
“Smart girl.”
Then she turned back to the old woman.
“Get up.”
The old woman struggled to stand.
Mack shoved her.
She fell hard onto her knees.
A few women gasped.
Nobody moved.
The old woman tried again.
Mack shoved her a second time.
“Maybe they sent you to the wrong place,” she said. “You belong in a nursing home.”
The old woman covered her face.
“Please stop.”
Mack slapped her.
The sound echoed across the yard.
Something inside me went completely still.
I had seen fights before.
I had seen people get hurt.
