"J-just give me more time!"
Temba's voice trembled slightly as the words left his mouth, his head lowered, his shoulders tense as though bracing himself for what was to come, while the burly man in front of him merely stared down with growing impatience, his expression hard and unmoved by the desperation in front of him.
"How much more time do you need?" the man asked, his tone sharp, carrying a clear lack of patience.
Temba hesitated, his fingers tightening at his sides as he struggled to find the words.
"J-just… some more…" he said, his voice faltering, "I-I am working hard… t-the children here… t-they don't even have enough to eat their fill… they are struggling for their next meal, just—"
"I don't care," the burly man cut him off coldly, his voice flat and dismissive, "I don't care about them, or you, or whatever story you are trying to sell me."
Temba's words died in his throat.
