He scoffed.
“Oh, please.”
“I’ve spent five years training in self-defence classes and have a bag full of potatoes. Want to try me, man?”
He looked her up and down, and for a moment, his grip loosened.
“Oh, please.”
I jerked away from him.
I felt someone steady me as I reached the safety of the other women.
I found my voice.
“I’m not deleting anything, and I’m not apologizing.”
His eyes moved from the phone to the keys to the women lined up beside me, calculating.
I jerked away from him.
Then his gaze drifted to the elderly woman, still standing at the intercom with her cane.
She watched him without blinking.
His smile disappeared.
“Whatever,” he muttered. “You’re all crazy. It was a joke.”
Nobody answered.
His smile disappeared.
They just stood together and watched him, and he went quiet.
My breath came in shaky gulps. All I could think about was keeping my distance and remembering how to breathe.
