Clara pulled a crumpled notebook from her backpack. “My mom, Angela Wilson, is the hardest worker I know. She wakes up at 5 a.m., works at the diner, then comes home to study finance textbooks. She doesn’t give up, even when she’s tired. She’s applied to Ellison four times already. And every time she cried when the rejection emails came. But she never stopped preparing.”
Clara’s voice shook, but she pressed on.
“She says this company values resilience and innovation. That’s why she wants to be here. She even helped local shop owners in our neighborhood figure out how to budget when business was slow. She didn’t charge them. She just wanted to help. Isn’t that what Ellison does too? Helping people find solutions?”
Margaret looked at Thomas. Richard rested his elbows on the table.
“Clara,” he said gently, “what makes you believe your mother can do this job?”
Clara’s lips curved in the faintest smile. “Because she already does. She manages our household like a business. She tracks expenses, forecasts bills, finds ways to save. And when our landlord raised the rent, she negotiated. She told me that numbers aren’t scary if you respect them. She would be the best analyst because she’s been solving real problems all her life.”
Her words landed with a weight far beyond her years.
Margaret’s voice softened. “Clara, where is your mother now?”
