When A Petty Bank Teller Kills Hope

Having learned from the day before, I immediately pulled out every document I had and handed them over to Judith with both hands, smiling at her as I did so.

"Good morning. Am I able to have the check deposited now?"

Judith rolled her eyes at me.

"Why are you so impatient?" she snapped irritably. "I need to go through your documents carefully!"

I bit my lip and stayed quiet. As long as I didn't argue back, surely nothing could go wrong again.

However, after taking the folder of documents, Judith didn't even bother opening it. Instead, she got up and headed for the restroom.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then another 20 minutes.

When she finally came back out, she slowly strolled toward the staff lounge. Another 30 minutes passed before she finally emerged and returned to the teller area.

By then, the teller at the next counter had already finished serving three customers.

I quietly took a deep breath.

But Judith just acted as if she didn't even see me. She just pulled out her phone and put her earphones in.

Unable to hold back any longer, I pressed her, "Excuse me. Have you finished reviewing my documents yet?"

It was a perfectly normal question, but she suddenly roared at me in return. "What are you rushing me for? Can't you see I'm busy with something else?"

"I'm the one you're supposed to be attending to now. Shouldn't you be prioritizing my paperwork?" I demanded.

"I've already told you yesterday—the bank has its own regulations!" she snapped back, curling her lip dismissively.

"You're just some regular employee, not a VIP customer here. What gives you the right to demand priority service? Your documents are very complicated and will take a lot of time. I'll get to them when I'm done with the work I have on hand! If you keep rushing me, I won't process them at all!"

The work she had on hand? I glanced at her phone screen. She was watching TikTok, where an influencer was dancing passionately on screen.

I had had enough.

"Give me back my documents! I'll go to the next counter! Also, I'm going to file a complaint against you! For two straight days, you've failed to deposit a completely legitimate check with all the necessary supporting paperwork!"

My voice drew the attention of other customers and the bank manager.

Judith instantly turned her phone off and put on a pitiful, wronged expression.

"Miss, I've already been trying my best to help you," she started. "I've explained that nonprofit accounts carry high risks and require extra detailed reviews. How can you blame me for that?"

"I'm just a poor single mother who relies on this meager salary to survive. If you file a complaint, I'll lose this month's bonus. Please be patient and wait a little longer."

"You're the one who's been targeting me from the very start!" I snapped angrily. "You didn't even look at my documents before refusing to process them. Now that I've prepared all the paperwork thoroughly, you're still dragging your feet! Why can't I file a complaint?"

She immediately recoiled and, with a pitiful expression, glanced at the people around us.

"Miss, could you please calm down? There are other customers waiting behind you."

As if right on cue, the customers in line started chiming in.

"If you're in a rush, that's your own problem. Why make things difficult for the staff? She's a single mother, and you're a woman as well. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

"Exactly. Can you stop wasting everyone's time? I still have to work this afternoon. You've already taken up an hour by yourself, and now you want to cause a scene? What about the rest of us here waiting in line?"

Right then, the manager, whose name badge read "Brandon Taper", approached me with a stern look on his face.

"Miss, if your organization or account presents potential risks, our employees are obligated to review your check and documentation carefully. If you refuse to cooperate, we have the right to deny service. You may even be removed from the premises."

I was speechless, not even knowing how to start defending myself. Tears threatened to spill out from how anxious I was.

"Sir, I work for a charitable foundation. The child I'm helping has finally been approved for priority medical assistance. The funds have to be deposited this week.

"I won't file a complaint anymore. Just allow me to switch to another teller, please?"

Judith sprang to her feet, holding my paperwork and still wearing that aggrieved expression.

"Why are you acting like this, miss? It'd be the same even if you asked my colleague to handle this. Besides, I expressly told you yesterday that you needed to bring in all the required documents. Yet there's always something missing in your paperwork. How is that my fault?"

One of the customers behind me rolled their eyes at me.

"Seeing you so agitated, I honestly believed that the teller had done something wrong. Turns out you just didn't bring all the required documents!"

"Exactly! You can't even do your own job properly, yet here you are, slandering the bank staff and demanding special treatment! What charity organization do you even work for?"

Brandon took the documents and physically blocked me from the counter.

"Miss, we will not accommodate your unreasonable demands. Due to your repeated disturbances, false accusations, and slandering of our employees, I hereby formally notify you that this bank will no longer provide any services to you or your organization!"

What on earth?

The second he finished speaking, two security guards stepped forward to drag me out.

From behind the counter, Judith smirked at me provocatively.

The paperwork that I'd spent half a month preparing was crumpled into a ball and thrown at my feet. Holding back my tears, I bent down and picked it up.

…

When I returned to the foundation, I struggled to take out my phone, unsure how to break the bad news to Lucy's mother.

Suddenly, a colleague hurried over frantically.

"Morgan! It's bad! That bank teller posted about you online!"

What?

I took the phone from her hands. In the video, Judith was tearfully recounting what happened today, describing me as an unreasonable troublemaker.

She even uploaded a secretly recorded clip of me standing there helplessly while Brandon and the other customers scolded me.

However, instead of feeling wronged, I felt even more shocked.

Judith's social media profile picture looked very familiar. In fact… it appeared to be the exact same one as Lucy's mother!

I immediately turned on my computer, pulled up Lucy's file, and looked at the guardian information section.

My colleague's voice rang out, tinged with urgency, "This whole thing is blowing up online, Morgan! The foundation's donors are worried the controversy will damage our reputation, so they've canceled Lucy's priority assistance!

"Morgan, are you listening? Why are you just staring at the computer? Say something!"

But I was completely dumbfounded. Because Lucy's mother was none other than Judith, the teller who had been making things difficult for me.