White Tiger

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‘Emma, this is your final warning. If you do not wear a suit to my kindergarten, I will dock your pay.’ Miss Kwok glared at me over her expensive reading glasses. ‘Jeans are not acceptable at any of my kindergartens. More smartly dressed. Remember.’

I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to be out of her office and up to Mr Chen’s place.

‘Your hair is unacceptable as well. You should come with me to the salon. Your hair is messy, you don’t wear make-up—really, Emma, your whole appearance is just not good enough. You should work harder to make yourself more presentable.’

A flood of words hit the back of my throat. I swallowed them all.

‘I have had some complaints from the parents.’ She shuffled the papers on the desk. Her face suggested she was in her early forties—the work of an excellent plastic surgeon—but her hands showed her true age. ‘The parents say you are spending too much time talking with the children and not enough time teaching them the ABC’s.’

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