Chapter 4 - The Angry Mother
The heavy mahogany office doors swung open with an aggressive, loud thud.
A medium shot captured Florence forcefully rolling her medical wheelchair directly into the dark wood office. She was still wearing her beige knit cardigan, a soft scarf wrapped elegantly around her newly shaven head. Despite her intense physical frailty, she radiated the crushing, undeniable authority of a true matriarch.
"Leave her alone, Christopher!" Florence snapped sharply, glaring at her massive, intimidating son with fierce, unfiltered disappointment.
Christopher immediately stepped back from the desk, his aggressive posture softening. "Mom, you shouldn't be out of bed. I am just trying to establish boundaries with the staff. We don't know anything about this girl."
"She gave me her time, Christopher," Florence stated defensively, rolling her wheelchair directly next to Hannah to protect the young maid. "You only gave me money."
The words hit Christopher with the physical force of a freight train. He physically flinched, the agonizing guilt of his constant business trips and emotional absence violently settling into his chest. He desperately wanted to be a good son, but he had spent his entire life burying his emotions in his corporate empire.
"Mom, I do everything to protect you," Christopher whispered softly.
"You don't need to protect me from Hannah," Florence replied, her voice dropping from angry to profoundly, deeply serious.
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A close-up captured Florence lifting her trembling, frail hands. Clutched tightly in her fingers was an old, heavily faded family photograph.
👉 Florence moved her wheelchair closer to the desk, preparing to completely detonate her son's entire reality.
