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The Zol Lakol supermarket was advertising one of its big sale bashes. Yaffa didn’t know exactly how it happened, but somehow, Yael Braun managed to drag her there at the end of a long workday. Towers of cans and packages of pasta were a bit of a strange backdrop for a conversation between them, and Yaffa suspected that Yael’s goal was to speak to her informally, out of the confines of the school. The two of them walked around with a single cart, which Yael had succeeded in finagling at the entrance with difficulty, as dozens of customers vied for every available cart. So far, all it contained was a package of microwave French fries for Elchanan and two bottles of oil that Yael had taken.
“These prices are really good,” Yael remarked. Then, casually, she added, “You know that Malka spoke to me today?”
“Wow, how unusual.” Yaffa chuckled.
“Actually it is a bit unusual, because we haven’t been talking much lately.”
“Why?” Yaffa grew serious. “Is she upset at you? It’s one thing if she’s angry at me, but at you?”
“I don’t know if it’s anger or discomfort. It’s clear that she suspects that I had a part in the whole thing with Mimi, and even if the idea wasn’t mine, that I actively supported it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Try telling her that.” Yael sighed and rummaged around in a huge bin of plastic plates. Keep Reading…