3:52 P.M.
When the boy with the mop of blond curls made a show of dropping his napkin to the floor, Javier Ramirez kept his face impassive. The kid clearly thought he was a real badass.
Like a piece of garbage and maybe a muttered slur were going to ruin Javier’s day.
Like he doesn’t have real things to worry him.
What if, despite how hard he worked this term, his grades are bad? What if the mall figures out the Social Security number he gave them is fake? What if, after Christmas, they cut his hours?
Javier is bending over to pick up the napkin when the first shot comes from behind him. Behind and above. It catches a forty-ish woman in the chest.
He recognizes the sound immediately.
Javier is already running as more people in the food court start to die.