“You’ve f*****g ruined my life.” Jenny’s harsh words made Agathe’s hand wobble, not great since she held a clear glass teapot, the white chrysanthemum buds inside sloshing from side to side.
The woman slammed her cell phone face down on Tiluma’s long breakroom table, then doubled over, her head nestled into her folded arms, as a torrent of muffled sobs broke from under her crumpled form.
Agathe’s knees locked, and she peered around the empty room for help. Jenny’s tears weren’t enough to move her from her spot, to loosen her inability to console another human being, even if she had interviewed this woman days ago and thought her nice enough.
Many years ago, rushing over to wrap a comforting arm around Jenny’s shoulders would have been just Agathe’s thing. But not anymore. These days, te
