The accountant threw his arms around Jackson’s leg just as he started toward the door, crying, “No, no, Mr. West, please! I’m begging you! My parents... They are in ill health, Mr. West! My mom needs meds to survive! If they heard of this, I don’t think they would be able to stomach it at all! Please, please... I can return that money, I swear, I swear—”
The accountant wept, but no amount of tears could soften Jackson’s heart. Everyone had that little line in their mind that, when crossed, would compel one to deny others mercy. Jackson’s happened to align with the law.
shrugging the accountant off of him, he returned to the office without sparing the teary accountant so much as a glance. Tiffany and Amy, whose ears were perked up to listen in on everything, sat up straight and solemnly when he walked in.
Jackson’s steam did not seem to have petered out, though, which was evident in the way he furiously flipped through the documents in his desk as though he could not find the exact paper he was looking for. Gingerly, Tiffany asked, “What are you, um, looking for? May I help?”
He leaned into the back of his chair slightly and massaged his forehead. “No, I’m fine. You can go back to work.”
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