The cashier didn’t look up. He was scrolling through something on a phone hidden below the counter. “Back wall. Register four.”
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Mark ran his thumb over the cracked screen. His old life—the condo, the fiancée, the job signing off on spreadsheets that didn’t matter—had evaporated six weeks ago when the layoffs hit. Then the savings ran dry. Then the pride. Now, the only thing between him and sleeping in his car was this transaction. The cashier didn’t look up