I went to my son-in-law’s restaurant—the place where he promised my daughter a job. In the kitchen, I saw her quietly eating leftovers from a takeout box, eyes down like she was trying to disappear. He smirked and said, “I’m not hiring her. She should be grateful for what she gets.” My daughter’s face crumpled and she turned away. I didn’t raise my voice. I took her to the best restaurant in town, let her order anything she wanted, and watched the color come back to her cheeks. Then I stepped outside and called my brother, “Remember that favor you owe me? It’s time.”
I walked into my son-in-law’s restaurant, the place where he’d promised my daughter a job. Stepping into the kitchen, I froze. My own flesh and blood was hunched over, finishing the scraps left on the customers’ plates. My son-in-law, Marcus, smirked. “A beggar doesn’t get a salary,” he sneered. Skyler broke down, weeping from shame….
