Chapter 3 - THE PRICE OF STAYING
“For what?” Emma asked.
Paul glanced toward Vincent. “Physical contact with a guest. Standard procedure.”
“While preventing an assault,” Vincent said.
“We still have policies.”
Vincent took the time card. “Paid leave while this is reviewed. Put that in writing.”
Paul's mouth tightened. “Of course.”
Emma should have felt relieved. Instead, she felt every person in the hallway calculating what she might be worth now.
“I don't want a favor,” she said.
“Then we'll call it making sure you aren't punished before anyone asks what happened.”
Vincent offered a car home. She accepted after checking the driver's name with the hotel desk, then called Lily from the back seat.
“Something happened at work.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then start there next time.”
Their apartment smelled of garlic and the laundry drying over two chairs. Her father, Daniel, sat at the kitchen table in his old maintenance uniform. He still wore it on bad days, as though a work shirt could convince his body to get up.
He watched the video Lily had found online. It began after Victoria raised her hand. In that version, Emma appeared to grab her for no reason.
The caption called her an unstable employee.
“That's not all of it,” Emma said.
“I know,” Daniel answered.
That nearly made her cry.
Lily turned the phone facedown. “We can push tuition back.”
“No.”
“Emma, you don't get to be the only person who gives something up.”
Daniel reached across the table. His fingers were thin, but his grip was steady.
“Did that woman need help?”
Emma nodded.
“Then don't let them make you ashamed of helping.”
Later, while looking for an overdue bill, Emma found a letter printed with a small lighthouse.
Harbor Assistance Fund.
Her father had spent twenty-two years maintaining kitchens in Moretti hotels. Six months earlier, he had applied for emergency medical assistance.
APPLICATION CLOSED: INSUFFICIENT FUNDS.
Emma stared at the sentence.
Across town, chandeliers had glittered over a charity auction. Someone had paid eighteen thousand dollars for a weekend at a vineyard.
She photographed the letter and sent it to the number Vincent's assistant had given her.
His reply came three minutes later.
Do you still have the envelope?
May you like
Before she could answer, another message arrived from an unknown number.
Your father needs peace. Let this go.
