Chapter 5: What Isabella’s Mother Knew
“Disconnect the hotel network,” I ordered.
Daniel ran toward the control panel beside the stage.
Chad blocked him.
“Touch that panel and you’re dismissed too.”
Daniel looked from him to me.
“Who gives the order?”
“I do,” Chad said.
“Not to me.”
Daniel pulled the emergency switch.
The ballroom screens went black, and Chad’s phone stopped glowing.
Isabella pointed at it.
“You were controlling the archive remotely.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Then show us your screen.”
Chad slipped the phone into his pocket.
“No.”
Brooke moved closer to Isabella.
“You’re making a serious mistake.”
“You made it when you mentioned my mother’s medical care.”
Brooke lowered her voice.
“Walk away now, and I’ll personally guarantee that care for life.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Your mother will be paying every bill by Monday.”
I stepped between them.
“Her care continues, no matter what the board says.”
Chad gave a short laugh.
“You no longer control the accounts.”
Those words landed harder than Brooke’s humiliation had.
Isabella looked at me, waiting for certainty I could no longer give.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I brought you into this.”
“You didn’t bring me into it.
They used my name and my card.”
“I stayed in that wheelchair to test everyone.”
Her expression changed.
“You tested kindness?”
“I needed to know who cared about me and who cared about the company.”
“You could have asked for help.”
“I didn’t know whom to trust.”
Isabella stepped back.
“So you let people show you their worst while an innocent employee stood beside you and became their easiest target.”
I had no answer.
“You looked at me like I had restored your faith,” she said.
“But I was part of your test too, wasn’t I?”
My throat closed.
I sat in the chair Chad had pushed toward me, not because my legs had failed, but because her words had.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Isabella’s anger softened.
She crouched in front of me and took my shaking hand.
“Then stop testing people, Graham.
Stand beside them.”
My eyes burned.
I covered my face, but she did not move away.
“We’re still here,” Daniel said quietly.
“All three of us.”
Helen closed her case.
“And Maria may still have what we need.”
We left through the service corridor before Chad could stop us.
Isabella called her mother while Daniel drove.
“Mamá, find the tin box Mr.
Edmund gave you.”
Maria’s voice came through the car speaker.
“Why?”
“Because Chad knows about it.”
A cupboard door banged on the other end.
“It’s here,” Maria said.
“There’s a letter and a memory card.”
“Don’t open the door for anyone.”
A knock sounded through the speaker.
Maria became silent.
“Mamá?” Isabella gripped the phone.
“Who is it?”
A man’s voice called from outside Maria’s apartment.
“Building maintenance.”
“We didn’t request maintenance,” Isabella said.
The call ended.
Daniel pressed the accelerator.
When we arrived, Maria stood in the hallway with a neighbor beside her.
Her apartment door had been forced open.
“Mamá!” Isabella ran to her.
“I’m all right,” Maria said, holding her daughter tightly.
“Mrs.
Foster heard the noise and came out with her walking stick.
They ran.”
The elderly neighbor raised the stick.
“Two men in dark coats.
One dropped this.”
She held out a hotel parking pass registered to Chad’s executive car.
“Where’s the tin box?” Helen asked.
Maria led us into the bedroom and opened an empty drawer.
“They took it,” she said.
Isabella covered her mouth.
Maria reached beneath her blouse and pulled a key from a cord around her neck.
“But Edmund told me never to keep the truth where thieves would look first.”
May you like
She pointed toward an old sewing machine.
Inside its wooden base was a second envelope—addressed in my father’s handwriting to Isabella.
