As the boys continued their taunts, a moment of tension hung in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst. Clara felt the heat of embarrassment rise to her cheeks, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the sides of her wheelchair. But just as the room seemed to be suffocating under the weight of their laughter, a voice cut through the silence.
“Enough!”
It was the deep, resonant voice of the diner owner, Mr. Thompson. Known for his kindness and hearty laugh, he was a man who rarely raised his voice, which made the command even more powerful. He emerged from behind the counter, his apron still tied around his waist, his eyes steely with determination.
