#9 The Note (Part II)
“Do you know what I do?” I asked with all the quiet dignity a woman dangling feet off the ground could muster. “I am a teacher. Or I was supposed to be. My husband . . . well, if he were still here I’d be a teacher by now. I’d have a real classroom with real students. This job was my only shot at becoming a teacher again. Do you understand that Mister Thorn?” Tears gathered. “You’ve ruined my life!”
“She’s very dramatic.” Thorn said.
I tried to kick him.
Thunder caught me, set me down. “Put the blanket back and I’ll take you to the train station.
“Is there any chance,” The old man sitting on the couch spoke up, “That the table will be returned?”
All eyes turned to me.
“I think,” I said after a moment of consideration, “My employer wanted that journal. He sent me all this way. He gave me hotel vouchers and round trip tickets." I pinned Thorn with a look. "He deserves a note of apology at least.”
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