Several guests nodded.

The hotel executives drew closer.

Edward held out his hand to Claire.

“You should have come to me.”

She stared at his open palm.

Then she remembered Arthur’s message.

*Ask him who ordered the chain.*

Claire took out her phone.

“Before I do, there’s something else.”

Edward’s hand remained extended.

“Who ordered the basement service exit chained shut?”

His fingers curled.

It was the smallest movement.

But she saw it.

So did Vanessa.

“That was investigated years ago,” Edward said.

“Who ordered it?”

“A maintenance supervisor, as I recall.”

“Arthur Voss?”

“I believe so.”

“Then you won’t mind hearing from him.”

Claire forwarded the audio file to the laptop.

For the first time all evening, Edward raised his voice.

“Turn that screen off.”

Maya looked at Claire.

Claire nodded.

The recording began with static and a scraping noise.

Then an older man spoke.

“My name is Arthur Voss. I was operations manager at the Grand Aurelia on the night of October seventeenth.”

Edward looked toward the security chief.

The chief did not move.

“I authorized the chain across the service exit,” Arthur continued. “We had employees taking food out through that door. Mr. Whitmore wanted it stopped during the investors’ dinner.”

A woman in the audience covered her mouth.

“I told him it was an emergency exit. He said there were other exits.”

Arthur’s breathing was rough.

“When the electrical panel caught fire, smoke blocked the corridor. They went for the service door.”

The recording paused.

Somewhere behind Claire, glass broke.

“They couldn’t get it open.”

***

Edward shook his head.

“This man was dismissed for misconduct.”

Arthur’s voice continued.

“The contractors hadn’t been paid. Sinclair was diverting the maintenance funds, and I knew. I signed off on work that hadn’t been done. I’ve given the original invoices and my statement to the authorities.”

Claire glanced at Vanessa.

Tears shone along her lower lashes, but she did not look away from the screen.

“Lydia Hart had copies,” Arthur said. “She saw us at the service entrance the morning before the fire. Whitmore, Sinclair, and me. She heard us arguing.”

The photograph appeared on the screen.

Three people beneath the service canopy.

Edward was younger, clean-shaven.

But unmistakable.

Claire felt Daniel’s hand at the small of her back.

Arthur’s voice cracked.

“After the fire, Whitmore said someone had to carry it. Someone the company could survive losing.”

**Someone the company could survive losing.**

Claire gripped the microphone with both hands.

Her mother had been twenty-seven.

She had worked six days a week.

She had cut the burnt edges off toast and eaten them herself so Claire could have the middle.

Someone the company could survive losing.