Margaret's voice remained calm.
“You would not have suggested I stole my own credit card.”
The security officer from the previous evening stood near the entrance.
His face showed discomfort.
“You would not have searched my bag.”
Derek finally said, “Mrs. Whitfield, I am deeply sorry.”
“If I had known who you were—”
Margaret's eyes locked on his.
“That is the problem.”
Silence.
Not the insult.
Not the incorrect rate.
Not even the humiliation.
The sentence itself.
If I had known who you were.
Margaret looked around the lobby.
“A guest should not have to own the building before you decide they deserve dignity.”
A young receptionist near the back began wiping tears.
Derek spoke quickly.
“There have been misunderstandings. Staff are under pressure. We've had theft issues. We've been told to protect the brand.”
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
Margaret waited.
“By me,” he admitted.
Chloe suddenly looked up.
“It was Derek.”
Everyone turned.
Derek stared at her.
Chloe's voice shook.
“He told us to be careful with people who looked like they couldn't afford to stay.”
“Chloe.”
“He said we shouldn't waste premium rooms on discount guests.”
“Stop talking.”
“He said certain people bring down the atmosphere.”
Derek's face darkened.
“You participated willingly.”
Margaret intervened.
“That does not excuse either of you.”
Chloe's mouth closed.