Clara stood up straight, facing her manager without backing down. "He was freezing and starving, Mr. Sterling. It was my staff meal. If the restaurant needs to account for the food, I’ll pay for it out of my paycheck."
Richard sneered, stepping closer. "You don't get to lecture me about policy, Clara. You’re fired. Turn in your apron and get off my property immediately."
The old man paused, a piece of food still in his hand. He looked up at Clara with deep sorrow. "For me...? You lost your job for an old stranger?"
Clara looked down at him with a calm, reassuring smile. "I’d do it again in a heartbeat, sir. A job isn't worth losing your humanity."
The old man fell silent for a moment. Then, his stooped posture straightened. His frail, trembling demeanor vanished, replaced by an unmistakable aura of command.
He reached into the deep inner pocket of his dirty coat. Instead of spare change or trash, his weathered hand pulled out a sleek, top-tier black smartphone.