Chapter 3 - The Boundaries of Class
Her eyes flashed with cold severity as she stepped closer, glaring down at the tattered figure hunched over the table.
"This restaurant is not a shelter!" she hissed, her voice vibrating with repressed rage. She reached out, her manicured fingers gripping Thomas’s shoulder, attempting to yank him away from the social contaminant sitting at her family’s table. "Have you lost your mind? Look at him! Get him out of here this instant, or—"
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"No," Thomas interrupted, his voice cracking just slightly as a heavy, suffocating weight descended upon his small chest.
The anger in his mother’s face froze, replaced for a split second by sheer bewilderment at her son's unprecedented rebellion.
