The words didn’t just sting — they carved themselves into him, slow and deep, like a blade dragged rather than struck. He sat there in silence, his hands steady but his heart trembling, pretending the comment had slipped past him. But behind his eyes, something shifted. While they laughed, dismissing him as though he were no longer the man who once carried them on his shoulders, he was already planning. They believed he was weak, cornered by age, dependent on their goodwill and generosity. They thought time had softened his spine, blurred his judgment, and made him easy to push aside.
