“Tomorrow morning at eight,” Wescott said, looking straight at Kellerman, “I want every internal employee grievance and guest complaint log from the last twelve months on my desk.

Unfiltered.”

Kellerman nodded stiffly.

Danika was crying openly now; Kendall stared at the floor, hollowed out.

Wescott took the crystal vase gently from Bea’s hands.

“Thank you, Bea.”