Sybil looked around to find herself alone. When she realized no one’d followed her, she turned on her high heels and clicked her way back to the small crowd of people gathered around the homeless man she’d stepped over.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Tasha asked, a grim frown on her face.

“Nah. He’s about dead now, I think.”

Sybil finally pushed her way through and froze. “Gross,” was her automatic response.

All eyes zeroed in on her and she looked from right to left. “Well, what is that dog, like twenty? It wasn’t gonna last much longer. If—”

“That’s enough.” Tasha took her by the arm and dragged her away from the distressed homeless man cradling his now still pet. “What’d we stay about internal monologue?”

“Hold up,” Luke called out. He crouched down and put ten dollars into the beggar’s cup. It set off a chain reaction. Some ones, some coins, but everybody gave something.

Tasha, still with her fingers grasped firmly on Sybil’s bicep, looked back.

Sybil watched the contrast Tasha’s dark fingers made against her porcelain skin. “Do you mind?”

“What?” Tasha remembered her and let go. “Oh. Come on. Let’s give something.”

More people gathered now and Sybil, taking over-interest in the scenery all of a sudden, didn’t venture too close. With their time so limited, she was less than pleased with wasting it here in the park when they had bigger plans ahead. Once everyone had given something, all eyes fell on Sybil who refused to return those gazes.

She didn’t give to beggars. It was almost a family policy.

Tasha looked around their little group, self-conscious as always. She walked up to Sybil, teeth gritted as she said, “Just give a buck.”

Eyes cast upward, Sybil flicked her brown hair back and wouldn’t dignify it with an answer.

Hoving a sigh, Tasha dug into her own purse then pretended to receive the money. “Wow. Ten, that’s so generous, Syb.” She hurried back to put it into the cup.

The dead dog flinched.

Tasha and company returned, but Sybil watched that bum and his mangey mutt.

“I don’t think that dog’s really dead,” she announced.

“What?” Tasha glanced back then nodded. “Right. We noticed, but it looked real sick.”

Sybil met eyes with her. “But it’s not dead, Natasha. It’s not dead. That’s a scam.”

“Leave it. Come on.”

Luke snorted under his breath. “I can’t with this girl. Honestly.”

“Babe, stop,” Tasha told him. “Just give her a chance. She’s….” she turned around but Sybil was already marching toward that fraud. “Syb!”

When Sybil finally closed the space between her and the beggar, she said, “Hey. How about getting up and finding work somewhere? Isn’t there a farm or something with strawberries that need picking!”

A collective gasp broke out and Sybil looked around.

“What? There probably is. Right?”

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Tasha practically slammed into her. “Sorry. Sorry. Forgive my friend; she’s nuts.”

“But he’s a crook.” Sybil yanked her arm free and said, “I’ll show you.”

She turned her heel on the mutt’s tail and stomped.

Resurrected, the dog leapt up, yapping. It darted from the spot.

“See?” Sybil boasted. “It’s not—”

Tires cried out and a car slammed into something flesh-based.

“Dead.” Sybil’s jaw dropped. “It’s….”

Coin and paper money and coin alike scattered as the weary old man ran after his friend.

“No!”

Tasha watched on, tears in her eyes. Luke, standing beside her, seethe.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he muttered.

“But…shouldn’t we—?” Tasha began. But a crowd was forming and not the good kind. “Syb, maybe you should apologize.”

Sybil watched the chaos unfold. Instead of commenting, she crouched down and looked through the money. Gasps and whispers didn’t deter her. she found the exact bills her friends gave out and plucked them from the pile.

“Is this bitch for real?” someone demanded.

“Rot in hell, Karen,” someone screamed.

A drink sailed passed. Luke ducked.

By the second beer bottle, they took off running. A few blocks down, they were walking again, Luke less than happy to be there.

It was no secret he only tolerated Sybil. Tasha usually ran interference but not today. Today she looked fed up.

They walked in silence for some time before they finally turned, and Sybil came to a halt.

“Syb…” she began, but the words wouldn’t come.

Unsure what she could do or say, Sybil offered the money as a consolation. The disgust on their faces told her that was a bad idea.

She wasn’t sure what to do with the fist full of money, so she looked around for someplace to throw it.

“You tell her,” Luke demanded.

Tasha cut him a pitiful glance but resisted. “It was an accident.”

“Fine.” Luke flexed his footballer muscles and leaned in to point a dainty finger Sybil’s way. “You’re a terrible person.”

Gasping, Tasha protested. “You could have said it nicer.”

“Nicer? Like how?” he demanded. “Like that old lady she wrestled for a coupon.”

Sybil took a step back. “It was buy one get one free at Victoria secrets. What’d her old ass need it for?”

Luke clenched his jaw. “To the handicap parking you steal—”

“I’ve got weak ankles. I can’t trek that far,” Sybil protested.

Tasha tried to step between them. “Hold on. Hold on. She’s not a terrible person and you saying that is pretty awful.” She took a deep breath then turned a practiced smile on Sybil. “Remember how we talked about you being…nicer?”

Sybil raised the fistful of cash but Luke’s glare made her lower it again.

Tasha was her oldest friend—her only friend really. This felt like…a breakup.

“So I don’t give to beggars!” Sybil protested. “But he was a liar anyway—”

“Did he deserve his dog assassinated?” Luke yelled.

Tasha put both hands on his chest and pushed him back. “Calm down. I’ve told you before, she’s very literal minded. We just have to explain it. She’s got a condition—”

“There’s no explaining it to her. Her only condition is that she’s an asshole.”

“Don’t call her that.” Good ole Tasha coming to the rescue. “Let’s just…let’s just go to the show and…and talk about this later.”

Luke’s pitch went high when he squawked. “She just killed a dog, and you’re acting like nothing happened! And she never takes responsibility. It’s like she’s a walking disaster.”

Tasha hesitated. “I don’t want to get her in trouble—”

“How about letting her get into trouble for once. March her ass back there and let her rich daddy pay for that poor guy’s psychological recovery! How about that?”

“But—”

“No buts. She’s a killer.”

Sybil looked between them, skin warming at the admonishment. Ever since Tasha got a boyfriend, she got incredibly…unreasonable.

Still, she looked forlorn when she turned to Sybil and asked, “Can we just go back? I’ve got some money saved. I’ll pay for any fines—”

“No. She can pay. Her and her crooked family can fucking pay.”

Sybil’d heard enough. It was for Tasha why she raised her nose, turned, and stomped back to the scene of the crime. Police littered the streets for miles. The first news van was daunting, but Sybil walked on.

Tasha started to lose confidence. Clutching Luke’s left bicep, she pleaded, “Um…maybe we should choose a different life lesson to reflect on.”

“That’s them! That’s them!”

Those two words sent a flurry of people their way. Bright lights flashed in Sybil’s face, and she raised her left hand to guard her eyes.

“Ma’am, is it true you were the one responsible for what happened here today?”

Sybil looked between the cameras. “Yes,” she said, confident. “But I’m not sorry. Not even a little!”

Tasha gasped. Luke covered his face.

“Moron,” he muttered.

“Not even a little bit. Not even slightly sorry.” Sybil gave a definitive nod to punctuate her words. “In fact, I came back for a victory lap.”

The reporter turned to the camera. “And there you have it. The woman now known on the internet as Money Back Karen unapologetic about the events that led to a man being shot in the back three times by police who answered a call moments after his dog was struck and killed on these very streets.”

“Wait. What?” Sybil looked around. “Wait. What?”