During long evening shifts, Lina noticed how their presence changed the atmosphere. They joked gently with the night clerk, complimented the lobby flowers, and remembered birthdays. When the workday dragged, their warmth made it feel shorter. It was subtle, but real. The hotel felt less transactional, more human.
On their final day, Lina decided to do something she rarely did. She picked up two small souvenir keychains from the gift cabinet—simple metal pieces engraved with the hotel’s name. It wasn’t policy. Just instinct. A thank-you for a stay that had been unusually kind.
She knocked, announced herself, and stepped inside.
Her smile stopped mid-expression.
The room was unrecognizable. Continue reading…