Chapter 9 - A Seat at the Table
Thea felt every eye on her as she stood up. Her server’s uniform—a black button-down and black slacks—was wrinkled and stained, a stark contrast to the grand gold leaf and silk draperies of the room. But as she walked up the three steps to the platform, she held her head high.
She stood before Rowena’s chair.
“Thea,” Rowena said, her voice warm through the microphone. “Earlier tonight, you told me that you were trying to get into nursing school, but tuition has a rude habit of requiring money.”
A faint ripple of laughter moved through the staff.
“You saved my life tonight,” Rowena said, her tone growing solemn. “Not because you knew who I was, but because you possess something that no amount of money, heritage, or finishing school can buy: moral courage. You put your body between an old woman and catastrophe, and when you were assaulted for your bravery, you stood your ground with absolute dignity.”
Rowena reached into her cardigan pocket and pulled out a small, heavy brass key. She placed it into Thea’s palm, closing the girl’s fingers over it.
“This key opens the office of the Vance Medical Foundation,” Rowena said. “Starting tomorrow, you are awarded the Rowena Vance Healthcare Fellowship. It will cover one hundred percent of your tuition, your textbooks, your living expenses, and full comprehensive health insurance for both you and your mother for the entirety of your four-year degree.”
Thea stopped breathing. The air seemed to leave her lungs all at once. “Rowena... I... I can't accept that. It’s too much.”
“It is not a gift, Thea,” Rowena said firmly. “It is an investment. The world has enough socialites, enough hedge fund managers, and far too many vain brides. What the world desperately lacks are people who run toward the falling chair instead of looking away. You will be an exceptional nurse.”
Tears spilled over Thea’s lower lashes, running hot down her cheeks, washing through the dust and dried wine. She looked down at the heavy brass key in her hand, feeling the solid, unbreakable reality of it. The constant, crushing fear that had lived in her chest for three years—the fear of rent checks bouncing, of her mother’s prescription cards being declined at the pharmacy, of choosing between groceries and textbooks—simply dissolved, leaving an immense, soaring lightness.
“Thank you,” Thea whispered, her voice breaking. She bent down, ignoring the decorum of the corporate setting, and wrapped her arms around the old woman’s frail shoulders.
Rowena hugged her back, patting her shoulder with infinite warmth.
Callum stepped forward, offering Thea a clean linen handkerchief. “You earned it, Thea. Every single bit of it.”
“What about the police report, ma’am?” Hazel called out from the floor, her voice bold now that the shadow of Merrick Sloan was gone. “About the bride? She assaulted Thea on camera. There are fifty videos on TikTok already.”
Rowena smiled—a cold, razor-sharp smile that showed why she had survived fifty years at the helm of an international conglomerate.
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“The police are already reviewing the footage,” Rowena replied. “Arthur has already filed charges for battery on Thea’s behalf, should she choose to pursue them. And as for Miss Avalene... let us just say her career as a luxury lifestyle influencer has experienced an unscheduled conclusion.”
***
