She sat down carefully, her bag on her lap, her back straight but not stiff. She had learned a long time ago how to sit in a room that was not hers, how to be present without taking up more space than was offered to her.
Grace hovered near the doorway for a moment, then quietly disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving the 2 of them alone.
Mr. Caleb looked at Rebecca. Rebecca looked at Mr. Caleb.
“Grace has told me about you,” he began. His voice was level and measured, the voice of a man who chose each word before saying it. “She speaks well of you. That matters to me because Grace does not say things she doesn’t mean.”
“She has always been kind to me,” Rebecca said.
“How long have you known her?”
“About 6 years, sir. We were neighbors when I first moved to this part of the city. She was the first person who was friendly to me when I arrived.”
Mr. Caleb nodded slowly. “And what kind of work have you done before this?”
Rebecca placed her hands quietly on her bag. “Various things, sir. I worked at a grocery store for 2 years, stocking shelves, helping customers, keeping the stock room organized. Before that, I helped an elderly woman in her home, cooking, cleaning, running errands. I also did some tailoring work on the side.” She paused. “I learn quickly, and I don’t need to be told the same thing twice.”
The corner of Mr. Caleb’s mouth moved. Not quite a smile, but something close to it, an acknowledgment.
“What made you leave the grocery store?” he asked.
“The owner closed it down. His family moved away, and he went with them.”
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