« My mother died thinking he had abandoned us, » I whispered.
Tears streamed down Thomas’ face. He did not wipe them away.
« I let him down, » he said. « And I let you down too. »
The restaurant was now silent. Everyone listened, pretending not to hear anything.
Thomas rummaged through his briefcase and pulled out another file.
Inside were documents. Bank statements. Trust registers.
And a handwritten letter.
My father’s handwriting.
If you’re reading this, it’s because the truth has finally reached you. I loved you every day I was away.
I cracked.
I cried there in the restaurant, in my stained uniform, surrounded by strangers.
That afternoon, Thomas closed the restaurant for an hour.
He hired a lawyer. An investigator. He publicly assumed his responsibilities, issuing a statement that sent shockwaves through the business world.
And then he did something else.
He asked me what I wanted.
I laughed through my tears. « I just want a chance. »
« You’ll have a lot more than that, » he says.
Three months later, I was no longer a waitress.
I was studying commerce; My tuition fees were fully covered. I was on the board of directors of a foundation created in my father’s name. And every morning, I would walk past that same restaurant, remembering who I had been.
The young girl who almost missed her destiny because she was too busy serving coffee.
Sometimes the truth finds you in the most ordinary places.
Even in a booth with cracked vinyl.
Even when a glass breaks on the floor.
Even when a signature ends up telling its whole story.
See more on the next page
Advertisement
