Chapter 30
An old lady, clutching a basket of flowers, with an accent that screamed she wasn't from around here. "Excuse me, wanna buy some flowers? They're fresh and cheap."
Margaret shot back, "Were you the one tailing me just now?"
The lady nodded, "Yeah, I saw how you carried yourself and figured you might be rich, so I thought you might buy my flowers."
Margaret noticed the old lady's hand gripping the basket, all cracked and rough from the cold. Everyone'd got their own hustle to survive.
Margaret ended up buying all the flowers, and the old lady, grinning ear to ear, handed over the whole basket.
So she was just being paranoid; no one was actually following her.
The bus to Ironwood Lane had stopped running and wouldn't be back until 9 AM the next day.
Margaret found a nearby hotel online, booked a room, and grabbed a cab to get there.
She picked a five-star joint.
While she was checking in, a woman in a hat and mask, Ashley, walked in, headed to the off-white sofa, and made a call, whispering, "I don't have money for a hotel. Shouldn't you give me some cash?"
She was calling Sarah.
"You haven't even done your job right. And now you're asking me for money? If you did your job well, you'll get more, not less. But since you botched it, you get nothing," Sarah snapped.
Ashley, worried Margaret might overhear, quickly took her call outside.
Margaret recognized her back instantly; it was the woman who was crying on the plane.
"How sad, she's a grown woman and can't even afford a hotel, having to beg her husband for money," the front desk clerk thought Ashley was calling her husband and said, "A woman needs to have her own job. Before they get together, guys promise the world. After, it's all excuses."
Margaret stayed quiet as the front desk clerk handed her the room key and ID. "Miss, here are your documents; keep them safe."
Margaret said calmly, "Book another room for me."
The front desk clerk was a bit confused; Margaret was alone, so why another room?
But she did as told, and Margaret looked at her. "Give the new room key to the lady outside on the phone."
The front desk clerk looked at Margaret, shocked. "Huh?"
Margaret smiled a bit, took her documents, and headed upstairs with her backpack.
The front desk clerk went outside and saw Ashley, wiping her tears with red-rimmed eyes, near the steps.
The front desk clerk patted Ashley on the shoulder.
Ashley flinched, quickly wiped her tears, and looked up. "I'm sorry, I'll leave right away."
She thought the front desk clerk was there to kick her out.
The front desk clerk handed her the room key. "Someone already booked a room for you. She asked me to give you the key."
Ashley took it and asked casually, "Did Ms. Martinez book it for me?"
Maybe Sarah wasn't as heartless as she sounded on the phone.
"Ms. Martinez? No, it was Ms. Hughes, the lady checking in while you were on the phone. You're lucky to have met a kind person," the front desk clerk rolled her eyes.
Ashley was stunned. "It was her?"
The front desk clerk shook her head and went back inside. "Who else did you think it was?"
Ashley gripped the room key tightly, the corner of the key card digging into her palm.
She found out from the front desk clerk that Margaret's room was on the same floor as hers.
Opening the room door, Ashley was stunned to find that Margaret had booked her a presidential suite.
The spacious room had all the furniture you could need, a floor-to-ceiling window, vintage wall lamps, and wooden floors covered with cream-colored carpets.
It was her first time in such a fancy place.
Her nose tingled, and tears welled up, a mix of helplessness, guilt, and a troubled conscience.
Just then, Sarah called again. She held the phone, unsure whether to answer it.
In the presidential suite, Margaret didn't bother with the hotel bathrobe but changed into her own cotton nightgown.
She went to the bathroom, took a shower, dried her hair, and picked up her phone from the bedside table, fully charged.
As she unplugged the charger, there was a knock on the door.
Margaret walked over and opened it.
A woman in a hat and gray mask stood there.
Ashley's eyes were red and swollen.
Margaret squinted; it was the woman crying on the plane and the one she had kindly booked a room for.
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