News
Storytelling

Billionaire Mocked a Black Girl 'Dance This Waltz, I'll Adopt You' — His Smirk Died When She Moved

Billionaire Mocked a Black Girl 'Dance This Waltz, I'll Adopt You' — His Smirk Died When She Moved

Chapter 16

Theme:
Font Size:
24px
"Every donor in this room was invited here tonight by Cornelius Braddock. You came because his foundation asked you to. You wrote checks because his name was on the invitation." She looked across the rows of standing guests, making eye contact row by row. "You just watched him drag an eighteen-year-old orphan onto a stage, insult the color of her skin, throw her dead mother's dance shoes on the floor, and dare her to perform for the right to be adopted on camera in front of everyone."The room went silent again. The word camera hung in the air. Every donor in the room remembered at the same moment that their phones had been recording."If anyone in this room would like to continue their association with Mr. Braddock after what you've witnessed tonight, you're welcome to stay. The rest of us are leaving."She picked up her purse from the donors' table, walked toward the door, and didn't look back.Bernice guided Daphne toward the same door. The orphanage staff—three women who had watched the entire evening from the kitchen entrance without saying a word—stepped aside to let them pass.Then the donors began to move: one couple stood first—the woman who had flinched when Daphne's shoe landed near her heel. She picked up her coat and walked out without a word. Then a man at the third table. Then two couples at once. Then a wave: chair legs scraped against linoleum, purses were gathered, coats were lifted from chair backs. Nobody said goodbye to Cornelius. Nobody looked at him. The string quartet packed their instruments without being asked.Within four minutes, the room was empty.Cornelius Braddock stood on the plywood stage in an orphanage dining hall in the Bronx, alone.The folding chairs sat crooked in their rows. White tablecloths lay rumpled over the tables. Half-finished champagne glasses caught the fluorescent light. The banner, Braddock Foundation 15th Annual Charity Gala, hung above the serving window, slightly crooked where one corner had come loose. The microphone was still in his hand; he set it down on the stand. The feedback whined once and died.His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. Then again. Then again. Then a fourth time. He didn't look at it; he already knew.
PREV NEXT

News in the same category

Billionaire Mocked a Black Girl 'Dance This Waltz, I'll Adopt You' — His Smirk Died When She Moved

20 Part