The Crescent on Her Shoulder
“You aren’t going anywhere.” Then he turned to me, and his eyes had gone sharp in a way I rarely saw.
“I’ve been filling the garden tub upstairs.
Go and help her wash.” I went rigid.
“Me?” “Yes.” “We have a full staff, Alejandro!” “Exactly,” he said.
“If you truly believe that helping people matters — and you’ve told me many times that it does — then start by treating her like a human being, instead of a mess for someone else to clean up.” The words landed exactly where he had aimed them, in the soft arrogant place I did not like to look at, and they stung because they were true.
I had spent the morning philosophizing about who deserved help.