I Pretended to Be Homeless at the Department Store I Owned to Find My Heir – Then Someone Suddenly Grabbed Me from Behind

I grabbed my cane and headed to the store.

The sliding doors opened with their usual soft whoosh.

Warm air and the smell of coffee and perfume washed over me.

I shuffled in, hunched and slow.

Heads turned.

It happened almost immediately.

A woman in a designer coat wrinkled her nose. She grabbed her bag tighter like I might bite it.

Thing.

I kept walking.

A man stepped aside dramatically.

“Does she belong in here?” he muttered. “Absolutely disgusting.”

A teenager pointed his phone at me.

“Look at this,” he snickered to his friend.

“We got a street zombie.”

I pretended to study a display of scarves, my fingers shaking.

It hurt more than it should have.

I’d spent decades giving to shelters, hiring people who needed second chances, insisting on kindness as a policy.

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