“You corrected punctuation.”
“Because somebody had to.”
The room laughed.
Mason reached into the binder.
He removed a folded sheet.
“Same Table is now used in sixty-three restaurants, eleven libraries, four community centers, two hospitals and nineteen schools.”
I gripped Hannah’s hand so hard she winced.
“What?”
She whispered, “I wasn’t allowed to tell you.”
Mason glanced toward us.
“Sixty-four restaurants after next month.”
Someone applauded.
Mason tolerated it.
Barely.
Then Tyler stepped forward.
“I think you left something out.”
Mason frowned.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Tyler turned toward me.
“Mrs. Carter?”
I wiped my face.
“Claire.”
“Claire.”
He smiled.
“Your son isn’t explaining this very well.”
Mason said, “I am explaining it accurately.”
“Accurately, yes. Completely, no.”
Tyler faced the room.
“Same Table isn’t just cards.”
He pointed around the diner.
“It became a system where businesses can identify quieter spaces, train staff not to force eye contact, create low-stimulation hours, offer written ordering options and teach employees how to respond when someone is overwhelmed without treating them like a problem.”
