As soon as I hung up the phone, Gabrielle's voice came from the door.
"Hey, guys. The faucet in my room doesn't seem to work well. Could you take a look at it for me?"
Just moments ago, the men in the office were fawning over her, but as soon as work was involved, they all started making excuses.
"Oh, the faucet's broken? You should call a repairman to check it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a repairman's number?"
"We don't have one. Today's our first day on the job."
"Alright. I'll figure it out myself."
She seemed disappointed and turned to leave, but I quickly called out, "Wait a minute. I know a little about fixing faucets. I can take a look for you."
"Okay. Thanks."
She smiled and led me upstairs.
I followed her not just to check the faucet but also because I wanted to talk to her. I wondered why she would still choose to stay here despite the staff being so untrustworthy.
I figured that her perspective was different from mine.
As the owner, I found some behaviors unacceptable. Still, I considered that perhaps she could understand them in a way that I couldn't.
I couldn't help but ask as the elevator ascended, "The people downstairs are so creepy. How can you still stay here? Aren't you worried about what they might do to you?"
Gabrielle smiled. "When someone is poor enough, they stop fearing anything. I'm not afraid of anything—not even death. Why would I fear them?"
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