Chapter 2
I said, "First, I'm not paying a dime.
"Second, no hot meals, no fruit, period.
"Third, post your video if you want. Do whatever you want, I'm not backing down."
I thought Flora would finally back off.
But that night, the neighborhood group chat blew up.
Flora didn't just post the video she'd shot at my store; she also dropped a long voice message, crying her heart out.
She claimed her son spent the whole night puking and having diarrhea, and accused me of giving the kids expired snacks.
The group chat instantly split into two camps.
A few old neighbors who knew what was really going on spoke up for me, but their voices were quickly drowned out by a flood of clueless people.
[This is way out of line! Giving kids expired snacks?]
[No wonder it's free. She must have some hidden agenda.]
[Is she using these kids as test subjects or something?]
[I've always thought the stuff at that convenience store was sketchy.]
The more I read, the angrier I got. I furiously typed out a long reply.
I attached the cookie receipt and a photo of the manufacturing date, then dropped it in the group chat.
[Hey neighbors, things aren't like Flora claimed.]
[All the snacks in my store come from legit suppliers. Here's the receipt and proof of shelf life.]," I wrote.
[If Flora's kid is actually feeling sick, I suggest you take him to the hospital, get a proper diagnosis, and keep the paperwork.]
[If there's any proof or real issue, I'm happy to cooperate and sort it out.]
As soon as I sent it, Flora fired back instantly.
[Leila, stop pretending you're innocent. Receipts are easy to fake.]
[What gives you the right to babysit other people's kids just because you run some crappy store?]
[If something goes wrong, can you even handle the consequences?]
I had to admit, she was right about that part. I didn't have any kind of childcare certification.
I just made some space for the kids out of goodwill, never once treating it like some official daycare or anything like that.
The vibe in the group chat shifted fast.
[Flora's got a point. If she doesn't have a proper license, who's gonna take the blame if something happens to the kids?]
[What if a kid gets banged up in her store?]
[Honestly, maybe we should stop sending our kids there for now. Doesn't seem safe.]
I couldn't sleep that night.
I tossed and turned, my thoughts swirling, and the more I thought about it, the more stifled I felt.
I kept wondering what I had done wrong.
For two years, whenever it rained, I'd help the kids gather their backpacks and dry off their clothes.
In the winter, I'd heat up water so they could warm their hands.
If a kid was stuck on their homework, I'd even call around to find them some tutoring videos.
Flora's son Ted was at my store at least three days a week, finishing his homework and hanging out until Flora wandered in around six or seven, always taking her sweet time.
Not once did she ever say thanks.
The next morning, as soon as I rolled up the metal door,
I saw angry red letters, messily scrawled across the front of my store: [EVIL STORE, HURTING KIDS]
The whole morning, business was eerily quiet.
The regulars who usually came for water, cigarettes, or tissues didn't show up at all.
People passing by looked at my store funny.
I knew that video had already made the rounds in the neighborhood.
At noon, Stan from property management showed up.
He stood at the door, looking awkward.
Stan said, "Leila, a bunch of residents called property management to complain about you running an illegal daycare out of your store.
"The manager asked me to let you know. You can't have kids gathering in your store anymore.
"Otherwise, it's a fire safety issue and outside your business license. If the authorities get involved, property management can't shoulder the responsibility."
I forced a wry smile.
"Got it," I said.
As Stan was leaving, he paused, looking like he wanted to say something but held back.
He said, "Leila, I know you're a good person.
"But some people... the more you do for them, the more they think you owe them."
At 3:30 PM, school let out.
Like always, a few kids were heading to my store, backpacks on their shoulders.
Ted was in the mix.
I stood at the entrance and gently stopped them.
"From now on, you'll have to do your homework at home," I told them.
The kids stared at me, their eyes full of confusion and longing, not understanding what was happening.
Ted furrowed his brow. "Miss Leila, why? My mom's still at work. I can't go home yet."
I crouched down and gave Ted's head a gentle ruffle.
"Go home and ask your mom for the house key, alright?" I said.
That evening, Flora came storming back.
"Leila, what's the big idea? Why did you kick my son out?" Flora snapped.
I leaned against the counter, my tone cool and detached.
"Flora, property management already told me no more kids gathering here. If you have a problem, take it up with them," I said.
"Property management? Don't use them as your excuse," Flora snapped.
She barged in, jabbing her finger right in my face.