A woman standing behind him spoke up. “He served his country. Just give him the discount.”
Kaden’s jaw tightened. “Ma’am, policy is policy.”
Before he could say more, the door to the back office opened.
The owner, Vincent—mid-forties, tired eyes—stepped out and instantly sensed the tension. “What’s going on here?”
“He’s trying to use some outdated vet card,” Kaden said, gesturing dismissively.
Vincent’s gaze landed on the card still in Arthur’s hand.
He took one step closer.
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