I’m no criminal mastermind. Once as a teen, I stole a T-shirt. It was Spring Break and we were playing a vicious game of Truth or Dare. I remember the smell of fresh fudge, my palms sweating, and my heart thumping. I snatched the shirt and crammed it in my beach bag before running for the door. I was sick to my stomach for a week and ended up throwing the shirt away. To this day I can’t stand the smell of fudge. That same sick feeling is back. The events of the passed week replayed in my mind. But the question remained. What do I do now?