Stealing Identity

Heather stood in the bathroom and pretended to fix her hair and makeup as she watched two women enter the stalls. She eyed their purses. One was a white leather Gucci bag. Heather didn't have a chance. The other was a small brown bag with no brand name. She would go for that one. She waited for the woman to settle into the stall and set her purse on the ground.
"Have you heard about that girl on the news?", the woman with the Gucci bag said to the other. Heather's face burned up. She turned on the faucet to splash her face and cool down. She watched the floor.
"I just read about it yesterday. She's a beautiful girl too. Such a shame." said the other woman. Heather looked in the mirror.
"I don't feel bad for her at all. I mean how horrible can your life be for you to steal women's purses from the restroom? It's a disgrace."
By the time the women left the stalls to wash their hands, Heather was already out the door running through the crowded restaurant to her car. She knew she was on the news last night. A local news station in Baltimore did a story on her so she drove all night to Long Island to save her identity. But the news travels faster than she ever could in her rusted car.
This was Heather's first stop this morning and would probably be her last. She couldn't risk getting caught for the sake of her sons Michael and Owen. Heather got into her car and adjusted the mirror held on by duct tape to see her children's faces in the back seat. Heather was always telling Michael that he would grow up to do great things with his intelligence and handsome face, but she could tell from his sad eyes that he knew things would ever go back to the way they once were. And poor Owen, only two years old, has never known a life outside of the one he lives now- stealing and living out of a dirty car. He could do great things too, Heather thought, they all could.