The Perspective

Margaret Mandanor

10 years prior...

"I think it’s high time you started resting. You’re pushing yourself too much these days," said the man in the suit.

"I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think what I’m doing is that bad. It’s my responsibility," Margaret Mandanor replied with a giggle.

"You never learn..." he muttered, leaving with a voice filled with anger and helplessness.

The man was Isabella’s uncle, a well-known business figure in Rischesville. The Mandanors had been a happy family of four—until recently. Everything changed when Harold Mandanor was exposed as a culprit in a scandal revealed by Helfort News International. Yes, the very organization Isabella dreamed of joining.

However, Isabella’s zeal for reporting came from a different incident.

"Mom, why does Uncle always shout at you? Is he a bad guy?" young Isabella asked.

"No, no, your uncle is a good man. He’s just really concerned about us."

Moments later, the police arrived.

"I’ve told you—I don’t know his whereabouts! Don’t come here again!" Margaret shouted, her voice trembling with pain.

"Sorry, ma’am, but it’s protocol," one officer replied.

Young Isabella didn’t understand everything, but one thing was clear to her: police were bad people.

The next day, the news declared, "Breaking News: Police officers involved in the recent scandal have been taken into custody."

"I knew it—they’re bad people," Isabella muttered.

"No, Isabella, that’s wrong," her mother corrected.

"What’s wrong?"

"You shouldn’t judge someone by their profession."

"Why not?"

"Because both reporters and police work to uncover the truth. It’s greed that makes some people bad, not their jobs."

Young Isabella didn’t grasp everything but one idea stuck with her:

"So, are news reporters good?"

"Oh yes, they’re the real heroes of the city," Margaret said. "They say reporting is the best profession on ElvynGross Street."

"Then I’ll be a reporter when I grow up!" Isabella declared.

"That’s wonderful," Margaret said with a proud smile.

Present day... St. Peter’s Hospital, TwinBroad Street

"What happened?" Isabella asked, her voice shaking.

"The doctor says she’s fine," replied her brother, Jack Mandanor.

"Mam, what about my taxi fare? Ten dollars!" the driver shouted.

Isabella checked her purse—$6.07 left.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, turning to plead.

"Take these eight dollars and just leave," said a familiar voice.

"What kind of people am I dealing with?" muttered the driver, walking off.

Isabella turned to see John Vilbert standing there, smirking slightly.