"You psycho! What the hell do you want? I get it now. You knew I'd be at the Farley gala tonight, so you planted yourself here on purpose, waiting to hurt my child and my wife!"
Gladys's screaming had already drawn a crowd. Now, with this new commotion, people closed in around us, whispering among themselves.
"Isn't that Mr. Sanchez? Why is he getting physical with a servant?"
"I saw the whole thing. That woman tried to hurt Mr. Sanchez's child!"
"Exactly. His wife got upset and tried to discipline her, and she actually had the gall to hit back!"
"Shameless. Just because she works for the Farleys, she thinks she's one of them? She's not even fit to shine Mr. Farley's shoes!"
I sat on the floor where Elliot had shoved me, listening to every word.
I thought of my own child. The one who was gone.
The bitterness and the absurdity of it nearly choked me. All I'd done was throw a pair of scissors back at Gladys's kid, and Elliot flew into a rage, putting his hands on me.
But my child, my own flesh and blood, had been lying in a hospital bed dying of a terminal illness, calling out for Daddy over and over again.
And he hadn't batted an eye.