Sam's legs shivered as she waited outside of Mr. Thomas’s office. Earlier that morning, she frantically dug through her small suitcase for an appropriate outfit for the occasion. In the end, she settled with her favorite dark-colored jeans and a beaded off-white blouse. Still, the gleaming eyes under her glasses swam wearily, glancing down at the stylish New Yorkers who strolled along the sidewalk.

“Samantha?”

Sam’s shoulders tensed, and her eyes twitched. Then, her mother stormed into sight with a flushed face, her eyebrows raised to the ceiling.

“Mom!?” Sam cried, and quickly stood up, the wooden chair behind her wobbling. “What are you doing here?”

“I would ask you that same exact question! What were you thinking, Samantha? Just taking off like that with out a notice!”

Sam remained quiet, her lips not uttering a word. Mrs. Lewis stared at her for a moment, then lowered her gaze to the floor.

“I guess I can’t really blame you, can I? I have been a horrible mother. And if you truly want this contract, I won’t stop you. But promise me that you’ll be careful.”

She reached for her daughter’s hands, and gently cupped them inside her own.
Sam whispered, “I will, mom.” Her mother smiled weakly, the slightest hint of tears glistening her eyes.