With a calculated calm, Michael Stone walked around the edge of the pool, addressing the crowd as he went. “We all enjoy luxury and comfort,” he began, his voice steady and commanding, “but it’s easy to forget the dignity and respect every individual deserves, regardless of their role or status.”
He stopped in front of Karen, his gaze unwavering. “It’s time to remind ourselves of that,” he said, and then, to everyone’s astonishment, he took out his phone and started typing. Within moments, he raised it to his ear and began speaking. “Yes, hello, it’s Michael. Could you bring some spare clothes and a robe to the pool? And please prepare a room for Ms. Clara to freshen up when she’s ready. Thank you.”
Karen’s friends exchanged glances, unsure of what to do next. The laughter had ceased, replaced by a hum of confused whispers. Michael turned back to Clara, offering her a hand to help her out of the pool. She hesitated for a moment, then accepted, her wet hand finding reassurance in his firm grip.
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