James spent the rest of the afternoon trying to recover the missing reservation records.
The hotel's database contained thousands of entries.
Most were complete.
But the booking associated with Room 1608 had been altered several times.
Some fields had been deleted.
Others had been manually overwritten.
James called the information technology department.
"How long will it take?"
The technician hesitated.
"Possibly a few hours."
"Do whatever is necessary."
"Understood."
James ended the call.
Edward was standing beside the office window.
"What did you find?"
"Not enough yet."
Edward turned.
"Who occupied Room 1608?"
"We're still checking."
"Was the reservation made by a guest or by the corporate office?"
"That's what we're trying to establish."
Edward looked toward the screen.
"Someone deliberately changed these records."
James nodded.
"It appears that way."
Edward returned to his chair.
"Then I want the original backup."
James looked concerned.
"That may require outside technical assistance."
"Bring them in."
James nodded.
A few hours later, the technician returned with a partial recovery.
He placed a printed report on the table.
"We recovered the original booking entry."
James scanned the document.
The guest's name was Daniel Foster.
He was thirty-eight years old.
The reservation had been made for him, his wife, and their two children.
Edward read the notes.
The family had arrived in the city because Mrs. Foster was receiving treatment at St. Mary's Hospital.
They had been offered a temporary corporate accommodation rate through a charitable partnership.
Edward frowned.
"Who approved the reservation?"
James looked at the report.
"It was approved by the former community relations director."
"Why was it canceled?"
The technician pointed toward another section.
"According to the system, the reservation was terminated by management after a complaint from another guest."
Edward leaned forward.
"What complaint?"
James opened the attached report.
A wealthy guest had complained about noise coming from the family's room.
The children had been crying during the night.
The father had apologized repeatedly.
But instead of offering another room or assistance, management had instructed the family to leave.
Edward's hands tightened.
"Who made that decision?"
James scrolled down.
The name appeared.
Victor Reynolds.
Edward stood.
"Call him."
James hesitated.
"Now?"
"Yes."
Victor arrived twenty minutes later.
He entered the office with a controlled expression.
"Mr. Harrison. You wanted to see me?"
Edward pointed toward the report.
"Do you remember the Foster family?"
Victor looked at the screen.
His eyes moved quickly across the document.
"Not specifically."
"They were staying in Room 1608."
Victor frowned.
"That was a long time ago."
"Three months."
Victor adjusted his tie.
"Then I may need to review the details."
Edward nodded.
"Please do."
Victor studied the report.
"I remember the situation now."
"What happened?"
"The family violated the hotel's quiet policy."
Edward looked at him.
"They had two children."
"Yes."
"Their mother was receiving medical treatment."
"I wasn't aware of that."
Edward's voice became quieter.
"Did you ask?"
Victor said nothing.
Edward continued.
"Did anyone ask why the children were crying?"
Victor shook his head.
"Not to my knowledge."
"Did anyone offer to move them to another room?"
"I don't believe that was possible at the time."
James interrupted.
"Victor, the hotel had twenty-three vacant rooms that night."
Victor looked toward him.
"That information wasn't available to me."
James displayed the occupancy report.
"It was."
Victor's expression tightened.
Edward looked at him.
"Why did you remove them?"
Victor sighed.
"Because another guest was threatening to file a formal complaint. He was an important corporate client."
"And the family?"
"They were receiving a discounted rate."
Edward slowly shook his head.
"So you chose the person who paid more."
Victor responded defensively.
"We had a contractual obligation to the corporate client."
Edward stood very still.
Then he asked:
"Do you know where the family went after leaving?"
Victor shook his head.
"No."
Edward looked at James.
"Find them."
James nodded.
Victor seemed uncomfortable.
"Mr. Harrison, I understand your concerns, but we cannot investigate every decision made by management over the past several years."
Edward turned toward him.
"Why not?"
"Because we have a business to operate."
Edward looked directly into his eyes.
"And those people had a life to live."
Victor lowered his gaze.
The meeting ended shortly afterward.
Edward asked James to contact the hospital and verify whether the family could be located through the original charity partnership.
He also requested a complete review of all charity accommodation bookings.
That evening, Edward remained in his office long after the other executives had left.
He was looking at the photograph of Margaret.
He remembered how she had once insisted that they reserve several rooms for families facing difficult circumstances.
She had called them the Welcome Rooms.
The idea was simple.
Every year, the hotel would provide temporary accommodation for people traveling to the city for medical treatment, family emergencies, or unexpected hardship.
There would be no publicity.
No photographs.
No press releases.
The guests would simply receive a safe place to stay.
Edward had loved the idea.
But after Margaret died, the program gradually disappeared.
He had trusted the management team to preserve it.
Now he understood what had happened.
The program had not simply been forgotten.
It had been dismantled.
Edward closed the photograph album.
He looked at the city lights.
Then he made another phone call.
"James?"
"Yes, Edward?"
"I want the Welcome Rooms program restored."
James was silent for a moment.
"All of it?"
"Every part."
"That will require a significant budget."
Edward looked at Margaret's photograph.
"Then we'll find the budget."
He paused.
"And James?"
"Yes?"
"Find Daniel Foster. I want to know what happened to his family."
The next morning, James received a response from the hospital.
The family had been located.
But the news was not what Edward expected.
Mrs. Foster had passed away two months earlier.
Her husband was now raising their two children alone.
Edward read the message several times.
Then he quietly placed it on the desk.
For a long moment, he couldn't speak.
He had come to the hotel hoping to correct mistakes.
But some mistakes could never be undone.
And somewhere in the city, two children were growing up without their mother, carrying memories of a difficult night when a place that should have welcomed them had turned them away.
Edward stood.
"James."
"Yes?"