Gable went pale, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. She turned and marched away, her back rigid with indignation.
A New Menu
Elias didn’t call for a maid to clean the floor. Instead, he wet a cloth and handed one to Maya. Together, the billionaire and the child wiped the granite clean.
Then, Elias did something he hadn’t done since his wife passed away: he cooked. It wasn’t fancy. It was a grilled cheese sandwich, golden and buttery, and a bowl of tomato soup. He sat Maya down at the small staff table and watched her eat.
As she ate with a desperate, polite speed, Elias listened. He learned about the “Red Letters”—the hospital bills for Elena’s chronic lung condition, a result of smoke inhalation from a fire years ago where she’d saved a neighbor’s cat. He learned about the skipping of dinners and the cold apartment.
“Anna,” Elias called out as Maya’s mother appeared in the doorway, her face white with terror.
“Sir, please—” Elena began, but Elias raised a hand.
“Elena, you are not fired. But your duties have changed.”