He looked at Diane.
“I owe you an apology.”
She shook her head.
“You didn't do this.”
“My company did.”
Diane's eyes filled.
Thomas continued.
“I can't promise that everyone responsible will admit what happened. But I can promise we won't bury it.”
For the first time during the interview, Diane smiled.
“That's all I ever wanted.”
Evelyn Parker was more difficult to reach.
After her humiliation at the Grand Meridian, she had moved temporarily to her daughter's home outside Cleveland.
Thomas called and left a message.
She returned it the following afternoon.
“Mr. Anderson?”
“Yes, Mrs. Parker.”
“I was surprised to hear from you again.”
“I promised I'd look into what happened.”
“I remember.”
“I've discovered that your experience may have been part of a larger problem.”
Evelyn was silent.
Thomas continued.
“I'd like to apologize in person, if you'd allow it.”
“You don't have to travel all this way.”
“I'd like to.”
She hesitated.
“Why?”
Thomas looked toward Margaret's photograph.
“Because I think your husband would have wanted someone to treat you better.”
Evelyn began to cry.
Thomas waited.
After a while, she said, “His name was Robert.”
“Tell me about him.”
They spoke for nearly an hour.
Robert Parker had been a high school history teacher.
He loved baseball, crossword puzzles, and lemon pie.
He always tipped hotel staff generously because his own father had worked as a janitor.
Every anniversary, he brought Evelyn a single red rose.
Not a dozen.
Just one.
He insisted that the first rose represented the day they met, and every anniversary was a chance to choose her again.
During their final stay at the Grand Meridian, Robert had been noticeably weaker.
He struggled to climb the stairs in the hotel garden.
Evelyn suggested they stop visiting.
Robert refused.
“As long as I can walk through that door with you,” he said, “this will be our place.”
He died eight months later.
Evelyn's attempt to return alone had been her way of honoring his memory.
Thomas listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he said, “Robert sounds like a good man.”
“He was.”
“I'd like to make sure his last wish for that place isn't remembered only through what happened to you.”
Evelyn's voice trembled.
“What are you proposing?”
“A chance to return. On your terms. No publicity. No ceremony unless you want one. Just the room you reserved and the respect you deserved.”
She was silent for a long time.
Then she asked, “Would I have to meet the people who turned me away?”
“No.”
“Would everyone know what happened?”
“Only if you chose to tell them.”
Evelyn considered this.
“I don't know if I'm ready.”
“That is entirely your decision.”
For several days, she gave no answer.
Thomas did not pressure her.
Meanwhile, the investigation continued.
The accounting team discovered that some room-reassignment gains had been routed through unusually structured internal incentive accounts.
The records suggested that certain revenue bonuses might have been calculated using transactions that violated company policy.
Investigators could not immediately determine whether every suspicious entry represented misconduct.
Some had legitimate explanations.
Others did not.
Thomas insisted on careful distinctions.
He had no desire to destroy reputations through speculation.
“Facts first,” he told Daniel. “We don't punish people because we're angry. We act when the evidence supports it.”
That principle became especially important when investigators examined Derek Collins.
Initially, Thomas felt little sympathy for the young clerk.
Derek had humiliated him publicly and repeatedly.
He had tried to pressure Melissa into lying.
And he had contacted Richard Vale immediately after discovering Thomas's identity.
But a fair investigation required understanding the full circumstances.
Derek had joined the hotel after graduating from a community college hospitality program.
He had grown up in a financially unstable household and desperately wanted to escape the insecurity of his childhood.
He admired people with money because he believed money represented safety.
Early in his career, he was polite, hardworking, and eager to learn.
Then Richard Vale began rewarding employees who secured premium guests.
Derek discovered that treating wealthy-looking customers with exaggerated attention produced better sales numbers.
He also discovered that aggressively discouraging less profitable guests earned him praise.
His behavior became worse as the rewards increased.
Soon, he began confusing professional success with superiority.
He stopped seeing guests as people.
He saw them as opportunities or obstacles.
During his interview, Derek initially denied wrongdoing.
He claimed Thomas had been aggressive.
He insisted Melissa misunderstood the situation.
He said Richard's instructions were vague.
Then Daniel played the security recording.
Derek watched himself laugh at an elderly man.
He watched himself ignore a valid reservation.
He watched himself use his position to humiliate someone who had done nothing wrong.
When the recording ended, he stared at the blank screen.
Daniel asked, “Is anything in that video inaccurate?”
Derek shook his head.
“Did Mr. Anderson threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he refuse to provide identification?”
“No.”
“Was his reservation valid?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you deny him service?”
Derek's face tightened.
“Because I thought he was nobody.”
The answer came out before he could soften it.
Daniel remained silent.
Derek looked down.
“I thought he was nobody important.”
It was the most revealing statement of the entire interview.