“She had almost nothing, Gabe. But she never let somebody else go hungry if she could help.”
Grace looked at Olivia.
“Set up an independent claims review. Once each amount is confirmed, pay the workers or their families. With interest. We can pursue recovery from the people responsible afterward.”
Olivia nodded.
“I'll start tonight.”
At that moment, Grace's phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
It was from Chloe.
“Mrs. Sterling fired me today. She found out I brought you hot chocolate. I'm sorry, Grace. I wish I could have done more.”
Grace stared at the screen.
Then she called.
Chloe answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Chloe, it's Grace.”
A shaky breath.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologize.”
“She took my badge in front of everybody.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“What did she say?”
Chloe's voice broke.
“She said people who feed strays don't belong at the Sterling.”
Gabriel looked up sharply.
Grace's expression remained controlled.
“Where are you?”
“On the bus.”
“Going home?”
“Yes.”
“Are you safe?”
“I'm fine. I'm just…”
Chloe began to cry.
“Rent is due next week. My mom's counting on me. I don't know what I'm going to do.”
Grace waited until Chloe could breathe again.
“Do you still have your uniform?”
Chloe sounded confused.
“Yes.”
“Keep it clean.”
“Why?”
“And keep Friday night free.”
“Grace?”
“Don't worry about rent this month. I'll take care of it.”
“I can't let you—”
“Yes, you can.”
“But why?”
Grace looked at her mother's photograph.
“Because somebody once helped me when I needed it most.”
Chloe cried harder.
Grace spoke gently.
“Go home. Get some rest. Friday is going to be a very interesting night.”
After she hung up, Gabriel looked at her.
“What are you planning?”
Grace smiled.
“I'm making a list.”
“A list of what?”
“People Victoria Sterling forgot were human.”
Preston Sterling had spent most of his life defending his mother.
When employees complained about her temper, he called her demanding.
When guests criticized her arrogance, he called her traditional.
When his father warned him that Victoria cared more about appearances than people, Preston insisted she was simply protecting the family business.
But the events of that week had changed something.
He couldn't forget the way Victoria spoke about Ruth Carter.
Ruth had been more than a housekeeper to him.
When Preston was eight, she brought him homemade butter cookies after school.
When he was ten, she taught him how to tie a proper necktie because his father was away on business.
When he broke his arm falling down the lobby staircase, Ruth sat beside his hospital bed until two in the morning.
His mother had sent a driver.
Ruth had held his hand.
Now Preston sat alone in his late father's office, surrounded by boxes of old documents.
He had been searching for financial records related to the hotel's debt.
Instead, he found a folder labeled:
RUTH CARTER — EMPLOYEE SEPARATION.
Inside was an injury report.
Preston read it carefully.
Ruth had reported severe back pain after lifting a mattress.
A physician had recommended further treatment.
Then, attached to the report, was a withdrawal form.
CLAIM WITHDRAWN BY EMPLOYEE.
Signed:
Ruth Carter.
Preston stared at the signature.
Something was wrong.
He remembered Ruth's handwriting.
She had written birthday cards for him every year.
Her letters were rounded and distinctive.
The signature on the withdrawal form looked nothing like hers.
Preston took out his phone.
He photographed every page.
Then he walked directly to his mother's private suite.
Victoria was standing before a mirror, examining two diamond necklaces.
“Preston, darling. Which one do you prefer for Friday?”
He didn't answer.
She turned.
“What's wrong with you?”
“Did you fire Chloe Bennett?”
Victoria sighed.
“Not this again.”
“She gave Grace a cup of hot chocolate.”
“She disobeyed a direct instruction.”
“She showed compassion.”
“She undermined my authority.”
Preston stared at her.
“Is authority really that important to you?”
Victoria set down the necklace.
“Authority is the reason this family has survived for a hundred years.”
He removed the injury report from his jacket.
“What about Ruth Carter?”
Victoria went still.
“What about her?”
“Did you force her to withdraw an injury claim?”
Her expression hardened.
“Where did you get that?”
“Father's files.”
“Those documents are confidential.”
“Is this her signature?”
Victoria said nothing.
Preston stepped closer.
“Mother. Look at it.”
“I don't have time for this.”
“Did you forge her signature?”
Victoria turned away.
“Your father was a weak businessman.”
Preston stared at her.
“What does that have to do with Ruth?”
“He let employees take advantage of him. Every injury claim, every retirement package, every demand for more money.”
“They worked for us.”
“And we paid them.”
“For decades.”
Victoria spun toward him.
“Do you have any idea what it costs to maintain a hotel like this?”
Preston shook his head.
“Answer my question.”
Victoria's voice rose.
“I did what your father was too weak to do!”
Silence.
Preston stared at her.
She continued, her anger spilling out.
“I protected this family. Every dollar we didn't waste on unnecessary claims was a dollar that kept this hotel alive.”
“Unnecessary claims?”