with us three days a week, helping with hems and finishing work.
I told them everything.
Bety stared at the scissors in her hand.
“I turned down extra hours somewhere else because I thought we had work here.”
“I know.”
She looked directly at me.
“I need to know whether I can count on you, Tere.”
She didn’t ask whether she could count on Ernesto.
She asked me.
“On Friday, I’ll give you a plan,” I said. “Not a promise just to make everyone feel better. A real plan.”
That
