He did not even move.
Lupita’s gaze dropped to the roses.
“They’re beautiful, sir,” she said softly. “Are they for someone special?”
The question entered him like a hand touching a bruise.
“My wife,” Ethan said. “Tomorrow marks three years since she passed.”
The lobby seemed to grow quieter.
Lupita’s face softened in a way that almost hurt.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Let me get a vase. Flowers like that shouldn’t be left to wilt.”
She turned toward the service hallway.
Karla muttered, just loud enough to poison the air, “This is why you don’t give cleaning staff too much freedom. They start thinking they own the place.”
Ethan lifted his eyes.
The chandelier glittered above them.
Lily slept.
The roses bent in his hand.
And Ethan said, very calmly, “Repeat what you just said.”
PART 2
Karla’s smile disappeared like someone had switched off a light.
