“Sorry?”
“I’ll pay for hers,” I said, stepping forward. “Just ring it with mine.”
The line muttered, scoffed. “She probably does this all the time,” someone said.
The old woman turned toward me. Her eyes were watery but sharp.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I cannot accept. You have your own things. Your own family.”
“I’m giving. Let me.”
“You probably have children,” she said softly, almost scolding. “You should keep your money.”
“I want my kids to grow up in a world where this is normal,” I said. “Please. Let me.”
Something in her face softened. Ethan watched me closely.
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