In minutes, she was at -least- 5 blocks away, a collection of oranges wrapped in her windbreaker clutched to her chest. She had nabbed them -just- as the shop was closing. No, Max didn't like stealing. But we didn't have to go over the fact the fourteen year old had long learned how to survive, by herself.
At least this time, she didn't have to steal for six. Only one.
Maximum rounded a street, giving a small laugh, turning to look behind her once and slowing down.