“Remove.”
“Then falsify.”
Lawrence paused.
“A mistake is putting the wrong number on a form.”
“You had multiple opportunities to become decent.”
“You declined every one.”
Bradley stared at the floor.
Patricia called security administration.
Not Jerome.
Another supervisor.
Bradley would be escorted to collect personal belongings.
Before leaving, Bradley stopped at the office door.
He looked back toward Lawrence.
“If Wesley wasn't your nephew…”
Lawrence waited.
Bradley could not finish.
Lawrence finished for him.
“He would have walked away.”
Bradley looked down.
“Yes.”
“Exactly.”
Lawrence’s voice softened, somehow becoming more severe.
“That is the part you should think about longest.”
Bradley left.
In the lobby, Wesley sat beside the main counter.
Patricia had asked another employee to print the full account statement.
Wesley stared at the balance again.
$487,263.
It did not feel like money.
It felt like Grandma Eleanor.
He remembered her checking coupons.
Repairing socks.
Saving plastic containers.
Turning the thermostat down.
Refusing taxis.
“You have all that.”
Lawrence had returned.
Wesley looked up.
“She could have bought anything.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't she?”
Lawrence sat beside him.
“She bought something.”
“What?”
“Your future.”
Wesley stared at the statement.
Lawrence continued:
“She started this account when you were born.”
“Every month, she added something.”
“Sometimes fifty dollars.”
“Sometimes five hundred.”
“Sometimes more.”
“Never missed.”
“Even when she was sick?”
“Yes.”
Wesley’s throat tightened.
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“Because she didn't want you treating her differently.”
He looked toward his uncle.
“Like Bradley?”
Lawrence nodded slowly.
“In a different way.”
“She wanted to remain Grandma.”
“Not a number.”
Wesley looked at his shoes.
“I’m keeping these.”
Lawrence smiled.
“I figured.”
“Forever.”
“That's a long time.”
“I mean it.”
“I believe you.”
Patricia returned.
She crouched beside Wesley.
“I owe you an apology too.”
Wesley frowned.
“You didn't do it.”
“No.”
“But the organization I oversee allowed someone like Bradley to remain in authority.”
“That is my responsibility.”
Wesley looked toward the lobby.
“Are there more Bradleys?”
Patricia did not give the comfortable answer.
“Probably.”
Wesley appreciated that.
“What will you do?”
Patricia thought.
“Find them faster.”
“Train people better.”
“Make complaints easier.”
“Review how customers are treated.”
“And make sure nobody waits thirty minutes in a corner because someone dislikes their shoes.”
Wesley nodded.
Then asked:
“Can Grandma’s money stay here?”
Patricia looked surprised.
Lawrence did too.
“You want it to?”
Wesley looked toward the screen.
“Grandma trusted the bank.”
“Bradley wasn't the whole bank.”
Patricia’s expression softened.
“No.”
“He wasn't.”
Wesley said: