Richard ordered her to clean every window and wash linens by hand. He insulted her work, inventing flaws.
Finally, he snapped, “Don’t you have any pride?”
Naomi looked at him calmly. “I do. I take pride in working and supporting my family. You can humiliate me, but you can’t take that.”
The words struck him harder than he expected.
Later, he asked why she needed the job.
“My mother’s sick. Lung disease.”
He laughed bitterly. “I’m not a charity.”
“I didn’t ask for charity,” Naomi said. “Just work.”
When he sent her to clean the closed ballroom, memories surfaced. Photos of himself standing, smiling, with his former fiancée Claire.
“She left when I couldn’t walk,” he said bitterly. “Said she didn’t sign up to be a nurse.”
Naomi listened, then said softly, “She broke you… but you’re letting her win.”
He exploded. “Get out!”
Naomi left, knowing she’d be fired. Still, she returned the next day.
That morning, Richard’s mother arrived—Margaret Coleman.
She confronted him about his cruelty. Then she turned to Naomi.
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“I need the job,” Naomi said.
Margaret studied her son. “She has dignity. You don’t.”
Then she asked Naomi, “Do you dance?”
“A little.”
“Dance.”