Clara blinked. It was an unexpected question, one that wasn’t in the script. She recovered quickly, replying with corporate jargon about “customer-centric models” and “commitment to excellence.”

David’s jaw tightened. He set his pen down. “That’s interesting, because just this morning, one of your managers—maybe even you—publicly humiliated an elderly gentleman in your branch lobby. That man happens to be someone I know personally. He’s my wife’s uncle. His name is Henry Whitman.”

Clara froze. Her throat went dry. She realized instantly what he was referring to.

“I—Mr. Langford, I can assure you—”

David cut her off, his voice firm but controlled. “If you can’t treat an old man with dignity, how can I trust you with the livelihoods of thousands of employees in my company? Banking isn’t just about numbers. It’s about trust.”