— The reservation was made through my office. When I saw the names on the list, I decided I should come. A part of me hoped that after thirty years, you all might have grown up. I even had my pastry chef prepare a special cake for us. I thought maybe we could actually talk, share some memories. I’ve moved on from the past. I have a son now; I know how kids can be. But within five minutes, you were right back to the nicknames and the stories about me being a “thief.” Yes, I was hungry because my father was an alcoholic. You wouldn’t understand that. I came here looking for a bit of closure, but all I found was the same old ugliness. If the power hadn’t gone out, I wonder how much more you would have said. The dessert is on its way. Enjoy it. My time is valuable, and I’ve spent enough of it here. Goodbye. Mr. Henderson, I’ll see you in my office.
She walked out of the room, leaving her former classmates in a deafening silence. The elaborate cake was served minutes later, but no one touched it.
— Well, we really stepped in it, didn’t we? She’s a multi-millionaire. Restaurants, factories, the whole nine yards, — Al muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
— And her husband is one of the most powerful men in the state. Mark has been trying to get a meeting with his firm for a year, — Liz sighed, looking defeated.
— Maybe we should go find her and apologize? — Al suggested weakly. — You know, try to smooth things over?
— You should have thought about “smoothing things over” thirty years ago, Al. You all acted like a pack of wolves, — John said grimly.
— Oh, shut up, John! You were right there with us! Don’t act like you’re some saint just because you wear a white coat now! — Greg snapped. — I’m calling an Uber. This night is over.
A little while later, Vera was looking over some reports in her office when there was a soft knock at the door.
— Vera? It’s John Miller. Can I come in?
