“I’m feeling better,” I said. “Much better. I think the rest helped.” I touched her hand. “You don’t need to work graveyard shifts anymore.”
“But, Mom—”
“You’ve done enough.”
Of course she argued.
But I held firm, and finally she agreed to return to morning shifts.
“I’ll still save money,” she insisted. “We’ll figure it out.”
I nodded.
Let her believe that.
Because in three days, everything would change.
June 12th through 14th. Preparation.
I texted Charles: June 15th, Spalato Legacy Gala. Make it public.
His response came quickly.
Are you certain this will destroy Rachel’s career?
I typed back: she destroyed it herself when she handed me $100.
Friday, June 13th, Charles worked fast — legal documents, the full estate breakdown, $15 million, distribution plans, video footage. Jerry had agreed to provide clips from the diner security cameras: Anna during graveyard shifts, the bruises, the moment she nearly collapsed against the walk-in refrigerator.
An invitation for Rachel — VIP tickets to the Spaledo Legacy Gala. $500 each. Charity event honoring Charleston philanthropists.
Your attendance is requested.
She’d come.
I knew she would.
Rachel never missed an opportunity to be seen.
Saturday, June 14th, I went to Jasmine’s salon on King Street.
“Make me look like myself again,” I told the stylist.
She cut away the choppy, uneven style, shaped it into something elegant. $150. Charles paid. Professional makeup — not the hollow, sallow look I’d been wearing, but color. Life. And a dress — Oscar Dearenta. $2,800 borrowed from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in years. Navy blue. Simple. Powerful.
When I looked in the mirror, CEO Elizabeth Hayes looked back.
Anna came home from her morning shift and stopped in the doorway.
“Mom, you look amazing.”
“I have one last thing to do,” I said.
That evening, I handed her a box.
“Tomorrow night, there’s a gala at Dock Street Theater. I need you to come with me.”
“But I don’t have a dress.”
I gestured to the box.
She opened it slowly. Inside: a navy dress. Simple. Elegant. $120. Charles had picked it out.
Anna’s eyes filled with tears.
“Mom, this is too much.”
“You deserve it.”
She held the dress against herself, looking in the small mirror by the door.
“Why are we going to a gala?”
“You’ll see.”
