“You,” she said.
“You took my daughter’s cup while she was crying. You looked at a 7-year-old girl and decided her tears didn’t matter.”
Vice couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Ma’am, I’ve come to return everything and pay for what I did.”
“Pay?” Sarah stepped closer. “Do you think money can fix what you did to my daughter?”
Emma slowly moved forward, encouraged by the fear she now saw in Vice’s eyes.
“You hurt my arm,” she said softly. “When I thought you’d hurt my…”
