Sometimes during those endless nights when neither girl would sleep, he’d sit against the cabinets holding a bottle because the cold tile helped his back.
I stared at the empty space beside me.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
The apartment stayed silent.
The next morning, my phone rang shortly after seven.
It was Marcus from hotel security.
Over the past year, he had become one of my closest friends at work.
“Rachel.”
His voice sounded strange.
“You need to come back here.”
“I don’t work there anymore.”
“I know.”
“Then why would I come back?”
“Because I reviewed yesterday’s security footage again.”
He paused.
“And you are not going to believe what she left for you.”
I sat upright.
“What are you talking about?”
“Just come down here.”
Twenty-five minutes later, I walked through the employee entrance I had assumed I would never use again.
Marcus was waiting.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“That came out wrong.”
He opened the security-room door.
“Just look.”
I stepped inside.
Then stopped.
Sitting on the desk was a pet carrier.
Inside was Vanessa’s tiny white dog.
The crystal collar was unmistakable.
A metal plate on the carrier read:
PRINCESS.
The moment Princess saw me, her tail started thumping happily against the side.
I stared at Marcus.
“What is her dog doing here?”
“She was left here.”
“For me?”
He pointed toward the top of the carrier.
A note had been taped there.
FOR RACHEL THE CLEANER.
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