“They Judged Her Clothes — Not Knowing Who She Really Was.
A Shared Burden
The transformation was instantaneous and painful to watch. Britney’s face flushed crimson.
She shot to her feet so quickly her chair rolled backward and hit the wall.
“Oh my god, Miss Chen, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize. I mean, I should have. Please let me take you up immediately.”
But Margaret had already noticed something else.
In the corner of the reception area, partially hidden behind a large potted plant, sat a young woman who couldn’t have been more than 22 or 23.
She was crying and trying desperately to hide it. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue while staring at a letter in her hands.
Her clothes were as worn as Margaret’s, maybe even more so. Her shoes had been resold at least once.
In the chair beside her sat a little boy, perhaps 5 years old, clutching a small backpack. He looked worried in the way only children can when they sense their parents’ distress.
Margaret’s meeting with Mr. Henderson could wait five minutes.
She walked over and sat down beside the young woman, ignoring Britney’s confused protestations behind her.
“Are you all right?”
The woman looked up, startled, her face blotchy from crying. She clearly assumed Margaret was another client, someone in the same boat as her.
“I’m sorry, I’m just… I’m having a really bad day.”
“I can see that,”
Margaret said gently.
“What happened?”
The words tumbled out in a rush, as they often do when someone has been holding pain inside for too long.
Her name was Sarah Mitchell. She was a single mother working two jobs to support her son, Connor.
She’d come to Henderson and Associates because she was being evicted from her apartment. Her landlord refused to fix a severe mold problem that was making Connor sick.
She’d saved for months to afford the consultation fee.
But when the junior attorney had looked at her case, he’d told her it wasn’t worth their time.
The amount of money involved was too small. The case wouldn’t bring the firm enough prestige.
They’d refunded her consultation fee and sent her away.
“He told me I should try legal aid. But there’s a 6-month waiting list,”
Sarah said, her voice breaking.
“We don’t have 6 months. Connor’s asthma is getting worse every day. The doctor says we need to move immediately.”
“But I can’t afford first and last month’s rent somewhere else. And I can’t break my lease without getting sued. And I just—”
She dissolved into tears again. Connor tugged on his mother’s sleeve.
“Don’t cry, Mommy. We’ll be okay.”
