Debt.
Lorenzo had defended her, but he could not erase those numbers.
She straightened anyway.
“Then I’ll get my things.”
Mia grabbed her hand.
“Don’t go.”
Karen’s throat tightened.
She knelt.
“Hey.
Your papa is here now.
You’re okay.”
“Will I see you again?”
Karen glanced at Lorenzo.
For the first time, the intimidating businessman looked almost caught off guard.
Karen chose her words carefully.
“Maybe.”
Mia frowned.
“Maybe means no sometimes.”
Lorenzo’s mouth almost moved into a smile.
“She’s observant,” Karen said.
“Very.”
Brenda exhaled impatiently.
“Karen, your locker.”
Lorenzo looked toward her.
“You seem eager to remove the only person in this store who helped my daughter.”
“I am enforcing policy.”
“Then enforce it.”
Brenda hesitated, unsure whether she had heard correctly.
Lorenzo continued.
“Fire her.
Put it in writing.
State exactly why.
Write that Karen Seymour was terminated because she refused to permit security to physically remove an overwhelmed child before the child’s parent arrived.
Include that she dimmed a light and used a store scarf to calm that child.
Include that the child was not harmed and the merchandise was not damaged.”
Brenda’s lips parted.
“I would never phrase a termination letter that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because that is an inflammatory characterization.”
“It’s what happened.”
Brenda looked toward the guard.
Then toward the customers.
Then toward the camera above them.
For the first time, Karen understood what Lorenzo was doing.
He was not threatening Brenda.
He was forcing her to own her own version of events without the protection of polished language.
Brenda’s face hardened.
“I don’t owe you a written justification.”
“Then Karen does not owe you agreement that she did something wrong.”
He turned to Karen.
“Did you?”
Karen stared at him.
“Did I what?”
“Do something wrong.”
Eight months of Brenda’s authority pressed against the answer.
So did years of needing jobs badly enough to apologize even when she had been right.
