Breathing heavily, the man ran across the street, ducking behind a car. He frantically checked for his bag, and visibly relaxed once it was in his hands. Suddenly, tires screeched as a car raced around the corner and down the street towards where the man was crouched. He froze, not moving a muscle, not even breathing, hoping desperately that the men in the car wouldn’t see him. The car abruptly slowed and moved down the street at a snail’s pace. The man closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer, as the men checked every hiding place down the entire street. The man knew he was going to be discovered, so he opened his bag. Shoving aside the money he had stolen from the men, he pulled out a picture. A picture of a woman holding a baby. He had stolen the money for them. He stole it for his starving baby girl and wife. Bringing the picture to his lips, he heard shouting and looked up into the eyes of one of the men. He turned away too late and felt the bullet enter his chest before he even heard the gunshot. Looking down, he watched as his own blood spreading across his shirt.