“Mom?”
“You stood there,” I said. “While your wife told me I was useless.”
“You agreed.”
He tried to scramble backward through excuses.
Stress. Miscommunication. She didn’t mean it.
“No,” I said. “You meant it. You treated me like furniture.”
“I’m done being furniture.”
Dale cut in, voice calm and lethal.
“You have ten days to return Mrs. Baker’s funds. Do not test me.”
The call ended.
The room went quiet.
Dale looked at me and softened.
“You did good,” he said.
I swallowed hard.
“I feel sad,” I admitted.
“That’s normal,” he replied. “But you’re free.”
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
