Felicia grabbed the woman by the collar. Her eyes filled with anger, then she shouted, “So you say you had surgery on your leg? Where’s the evidence? I think you just don’t want to give up your seat for a patient! You’re already so old, I just don’t understand, how can you be so heartless?”
The passengers nearby stepped in to intervene.
“Ma’am, you look like you’ve been doing hard labor all your life. We can stand a little longer. The young man just had surgery and is weak, so let’s give him the seat!”
“Yeah, life’s tough for everyone out here, so don’t be petty to the small stuff.”
I suddenly remembered the woman I’d caught a glimpse of when I left the station in my previous life. I realized her words might be the truth.
Then I remembered last year, when I took my mom to the hospital and that young girl who’d offered her seat to my mom. My heart softened instantly.
This time around, I hadn’t asked Felicia to give up her seat, so surely I could offer mine? With that thought, I took off my headphones and waved at the woman.
“You can come sit here.”