The meeting begins, the director’s voice carrying over the assembled crowd. He outlines the agenda, speaking of community values and the importance of maintaining a respectful environment.
“We’ve received numerous complaints,” he says, his eyes scanning the room. “It’s clear we need to address some behavior issues here at the center.”
The girl rolls her eyes, her friends stifling giggles. I feel a surge of anger, my hands clenching in my lap.
The director continues, inviting anyone with concerns to speak. For a moment, there’s silence, the air thick with anticipation.
Then, the old man clears his throat, his voice firm yet weary. “I’ve been coming here for years,” he begins, drawing the room’s attention. “This place used to be a sanctuary, a place where everyone felt welcome.”
He pauses, his gaze fixing on the girl, who meets his eyes with defiance. “Lately, it’s felt like anything but.”
His words hang in the air, a challenge and a plea wrapped into one. The room holds its breath, waiting for what comes next.
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