I don't know why your post made me remember something from 3rd grade:
I had a wonderful set of pencils in a cute case /printed with my name on them -- brand new, probably a dozen.
I loooovvvvved those pencils. FIRST DAY I HAD THEM a nasty little girl stole them. I knew she had them, but the teacher wouldn't believe me. I begged her to look in the girl's bookbag, but she wouldn't. Even then I understood that she was a kid from a bad family who had everything against her. She was dirty, she did poorly in school, and the teacher didn't want to throw one more thing at her -- but I SAW HER take the pencils. The teacher thought I was assuming that she did it because she was not well liked.
I watched that girl like a hawk every day, hoping she'd use one of my wonderful pencils -- but she was too smart to bring them to school. The majority of my anger was directed at the teacher, who should have been a reasonable adult, rather than the girl who stole them.
Even then I wondered, "Why would she steal pencils with MY name engraved on them?"
The two real kickers: The teacher was my great-aunt, and my mom beat my butt for losing the lovely new pencils. I did not often get in trouble when it wasn't my fault -- in fact, that's about the only time I can remember -- but this one wasn't on me.
Dirty Ruth from 3rd grade, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!