As Jade trudged home, his mom, Mrs. Esther, had been frantically searching for him throughout their street. She had asked neighbors if they'd seen her son, but to no avail. Finally, she spotted Jade approaching from across the street, his hands laden with bags.
"Stop right there! Where have you been, Jade?" Mrs. Esther demanded, her voice laced with worry and frustration. "I've been looking all over town for you. What's all that in your hands?"
Jade stuttered, "M-mom, I went out..."
Mrs. Esther's eyes narrowed. "With who?"
Jade hesitated, "M-my friends."
Mrs. Esther's expression turned stern. "Friends! I've told you before, friends can be a bad influence. If your friends are thieves, people will think you're one too. If they're arm robbers, you'll be seen as one as well. How many times must I remind you that people are watching?"
As Mrs. Esther lectured, Jade's stomach growled, protesting the delay in dinner.
"But mom..." Jade attempted to interject.
Mrs. Esther cut him off. "What is it? Don't waste my time. Hand over those things and know you're not eating dinner tonight."
Jade's eyes widened as Mrs. Esther snatched the bags from his hands.
"But mom, why can't I eat?" Jade pleaded, his rumbling stomach protesting.
Mrs. Esther shouted from inside the house, "You know I cooked! You went out with friends, and now you want to eat? Don't touch my pot!"
Jade begged, "Mom, can't I eat what I brought?"
Mrs. Esther's warning turned menacing. "Don't try me. If you touch my pot, you'll cry. I mean it."
Jade knelt, tears welling in his eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Just then, Mr. Taylor walked in from work, surprised to see Jade kneeling dramatically. "What's going on? Who died? Why are you crying?"