Just watch where he goes.”

I had owned Miller’s Corner Market for thirty-eight years.

I had dealt with shoplifters, dishonest suppliers, employees who made mistakes, and customers who tried to pass bad checks.

Every difficult conversation began with someone looking me in the eye and telling me what was wrong.

But my granddaughter, who still needed help tying the laces on her soccer shoes, was telling me that speaking plainly was dangerous.

That frightened me more than any accusation she might have made.