She walked into my salon just after sunrise, clutching a worn leather purse as if it were the only thing keeping her steady. Her shoulders slumped slightly, her eyes red and swollen from tears accumulated over long nights of worry and uncertainty.
“My son’s wedding is in a few hours,” she whispered, her voice trembling but quiet, as though speaking loudly might shatter her composure. “I don’t want to embarrass him.” Each word carried a weight beyond explanation.
She counted out twelve crumpled dollars and pushed them toward…
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