Moja córka nie dostała wynagrodzenia za swoją wakacyjną pracę w lokalnym barze z lodami – jak sobie z tym poradziła, uświadomiła mi, że dobrze ją wychowałam

“You’re supposed to work the truck with him.”

Sloan nodded.

“All day.”

“And he doesn’t have anyone else?”

“Not that I know of.”

I stared at my daughter.

“What are you going to do?”

She picked up her phone. “Tell him I’m not working another minute until he pays me.”

At 6:03 Saturday morning, Sloan sent the message.

“I won’t be working today or any other shift until the $1,104 you owe me is paid.”

Santiago answered in less than two minutes.

“We need to talk.”

Sloan replied, “You can text me.”

I almost applauded.

Instead, I went to make myself some coffee. At 7:17, my phone rang.

Santiago.

I answered, unsure what he was calling about.

“Hello?”

“Hi. This is Santiago. Sloan’s boss.”

The word boss almost made me laugh.

Apparently she was an employee again.

He sounded irritated but controlled.

“I think Sloan is confused about our arrangement.”

“I’ve seen your messages.”

Silence.

Then, “She’s 16. She doesn’t understand how running a seasonal business works.”

My anger came rushing back.

Before I could answer, Sloan walked into the kitchen.

She saw my face.