Chapter 3
"You're just mad because I asked for compensation, so now you're punishing my kid.
"You just sit here all day anyway. What's so hard about letting the kids do their homework?
"You used to be so generous. Why are you suddenly so stingy just because I asked you for money?"
I gave her a cold look.
I said, "First off, you were the one who flipped out.
"Second, let's be clear. I'm not a daycare, and I don't have to look after anyone's kids.
"And property management already said this table's going. I'm putting shelves here instead."
Flora froze.
She asked, "You're really taking away the homework area?
"Where are all these kids supposed to do their homework now?"
I couldn't believe how absurd that sounded.
I gave them free space for two years, and now that I stopped, I suddenly became the villain.
Did I unknowingly sign up to be their servant or something?
"Flora, you should count yourself lucky I'm just taking away the table and not reporting you for vandalizing my storefront with that red paint," I said coldly.
Her expression faltered for a split second.
"Who threw paint? Don't you dare accuse me of that," Flora shot back.
"There's a camera out front," I said, pointing to the one by the door.
Her gaze wavered for a second, but she still acted tough.
"So what? You gonna report me? Is it really worth it for a few words?" Flora scoffed.
With that, she stormed out, fuming.
I thought she'd finally given up.
But the next day around noon, while I was checking stock in the store, I suddenly heard a noisy commotion outside.
I looked up and saw seven or eight moms crowding at my doorway.
Each of them was holding up a sheet of printer paper.
The papers said: [WE DEMAND LEILA BRING BACK THE FREE DAYCARE AREA!]
"Who's going to keep the kids safe?
"The convenience store lady is turning her back on the community's kids just for her own benefit."
As soon as Flora spotted me coming out, she started hollering at the top of her lungs.
"Leila! You closed down the homework zone. Do you even realize these kids are left out on the streets after school now?
"If anything happens to them, are you ready to take the blame?"
The curly-haired mom chimed in, raising her voice.
"That's right. My kid got bumped by a bike in the garden yesterday. Thank goodness nothing serious happened.
"If she hadn't closed the homework zone, my kid wouldn't have been wandering around outside."
The woman in the floral dress chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Doing a good deed halfway is even more shameless than not doing it at all.
"You were the one who said the kids could come here to do their homework, and now you just bail? What, you think this is just playing house?"
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my cool.
I spent two years running a free homework zone just to help out, and now that I stopped, suddenly I was the bad guy.
They blamed me if anything happened to their kids outside.
Who was making sure they were safe all this time in my store?
None of them ever bothered to say thanks.
I stared at Flora, making sure she heard every word.
"Your kids are your responsibility, not mine. Why should I have to take care of them?
"I'm just a convenience store owner, not a nanny, not a teacher, and I'm sure as hell not a charity.
"If you can't pick up your kids because you're working late, then hire a daycare, get a babysitter, or ask your family to help out.
"I've watched your kids for free for two years, never asked for a dime, and I haven't heard a single thank you.
"Now that I've stopped, you come here blocking my door, splashing paint, and making up lies about me."
The more I talked, the more fired up I got; my voice getting louder and angrier.
"What you take for granted was never yours to begin with!" I shouted.
Flora let out a cold laugh.
"Spare me the talk about gratitude. You set up shop right here in our community. Your whole business survives because of us neighbors.
"You think you can keep your store open after crossing us?"
She spun around to the moms behind her and yelled, "Starting today, nobody shops at her store.
"Go to the supermarket around the corner. It's just a short walk.
"Let's show her what happens when messing with us moms."
The other women all chimed in together.
"That's right. Boycott her!"
With that, they stormed off as a crowd.
From that afternoon on, my convenience store was completely deserted.
By the end of the day, I checked my sales for the day.
It was only 55 dollars.
That was almost 300 dollars less than usual.
For three days straight, business didn't pick up at all.
Flora was mentioning everyone in the neighborhood group chat every day, organizing a boycott against the "black-hearted convenience store."
Even residents who had no clue what was really happening got swept up in her drama and jumped on the boycott bandwagon.
Some people even dumped trash bags at my storefront in the middle of the night.
On the fourth morning, I rolled up the metal door like always and found more graffiti scrawled across the entrance.
This time, it wasn't paint; it was a marker.