Charles’s face flushed. Sweat pooled along his hairline.
“These are stories,” he muttered. “Anyone can make this up.”
Margaret didn’t blink. “Your grandfather had a scar on his left hand,” she said slowly. “He got it the same day he tried to break a glass over my head. Missed. Cut himself. Told everyone it was a gardening accident.”
Silence engulfed the room.
Several customers left in silence. No one wanted to witness what was happening.
“I spent seventy years wondering if I could ever show the Hayes family what happens when someone like me refuses to remain invisible,” Margaret said.
Charles called for safety again, panic breaking out of his voice.
Before anyone moved, the main doors opened.
Gerald Simmons entered – senior vice president, founding board member, authority in the name of man.
“Charles,” Gerald said calmly, “why do I hear shouting from the tenth floor?”
Charles hurried to explain. “A confused woman with false documents—”
Gerald walked past him.
Directly to Margaret.
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