Binnenin lagen sollicitaties—één voor schoonmaakwerk, een andere voor kantineservice.
Toms gezicht kleurde rood. « Verwacht je dat we de vloeren voor je schoonmaken? »
« Nee, » zei ik. « Ik verwacht dat jullie voor jezelf werken. »
Linda begon weer te huilen. « Ethan, alsjeblieft— »
I stopped her gently. “You don’t get to ask for charity from the boy you left in the rain.”
Weeks passed. I didn’t expect them to return—but they did.
Tom showed up at the site every morning, silent but steady, sweeping floors and cleaning tools. Linda took the cafeteria job, serving lunches to workers with a forced but growing smile.
The first few days, no one recognized them. They were just two older employees trying to start over.
One afternoon, I found Tom sitting alone during break. His hands shook slightly as he smoked, staring at the horizon.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said.
He looked up.
“Yes, I do,” he said. “Every morning I think about that night—the rain, your face.”
“I was a coward. You were a kid who deserved better.”
For the first time, I believed him.
