The bank manager, Mr. Collins, greeted me with a firm handshake. “Thank you for coming,” he said, as we settled into his office. The walls were lined with certificates and photos, carefully curated to convey trust and efficiency.
“I appreciate you meeting with me,” I replied, trying to project confidence I didn’t feel. My fingers tapped nervously on the folder in my lap.
Mr. Collins opened a file and glanced over it briefly before speaking. “I understand you have some questions about the account,” he began, choosing his words carefully.
“Yes,” I said, my voice steadier than expected. “There seems to be some confusion regarding the mortgage payments. I’ve found some letters, but I’m hoping you can clarify the situation.”
He nodded, his expression neutral. “The account is in arrears,” he said, confirming my fears. “A few payments have been missed, and we’re nearing the end of the grace period.”
The room seemed to close in around me. I struggled to maintain my composure as I asked, “Is there anything we can do to rectify this?”
Mr. Collins leaned back in his chair, considering my question. “There are options,” he said finally. “But it will require immediate action on your part.”
We spent the next hour discussing possible solutions, each one feeling more daunting than the last. I took notes, my mind racing to keep up with the numbers and terms being thrown my way.
As the meeting concluded, Mr. Collins offered a thin smile. “I hope this helps,” he said, extending his hand once more. I shook it, grateful for his time but no less overwhelmed.
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