“No,” I replied, quietly but without hesitation. “Everything I have is because I walked through those doors myself and stayed standing when they tried to close.”
For a second, he just stared at me, as if recalibrating.
Then something in him snapped.
He stepped back abruptly, reached for a passing tray without even looking at it, and before I had time to process what he was doing, he flung the contents of a glass straight at me.
The shock was immediate.