“You stole my money.”
Leticia’s eyes widened, as large and saucer-like as Melba’s lips were compressed. Too shocked to speak, she just shook her head in denial.
“You stole my money!” Melba repeated. Melba rarely used her indoor voice anyway, but by the end of this statement, there was surely not a person in the office who hadn’t heard. Indeed, the background office noises had fallen utterly still. Leticia felt her face and neck burn as she flushed under her dark skin. Still, she couldn’t quite articulate a response.
“Admit it, you … you … immigrant!”
Leticia’s mouth, which had been soundlessly trying to form words to deny Melba’s outrageous accusation, snapped shut. She returned Melba’s glare. “I did no such thing,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.She spoke with a pronounced Jamaican accent, but she always spoke clean, proper English.