“We know,” the man said.
“You’ve spent the last six months interviewing. Your background checked out. Your references were strong. You presented yourself as someone who values inclusion, compassion, and community.”
She nodded quickly. “Exactly. That’s why I—”
The man raised his hand, cutting her off.
My heart began to race. This felt connected—I just didn’t know how yet.
He opened the folder.
“Part of our final evaluation includes observing how candidates behave in their everyday environment. Not staged. Not rehearsed. Real.”
Mrs. Harlow’s face tightened.
“I don’t understand.”
The man took out his phone, tapped the screen, and turned it toward her.
Even from where I stood, I could hear it.
The crack of wood. Caleb’s scream.
Mrs. Harlow’s voice, sharp and clear: “This is an eyesore!”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“No…”
The man lowered the phone.
