Sir, with that sleeping child and those damaged flowers, you may want to try a cheaper motel down the road.”
Ethan Vance froze in front of the marble desk of the Grand Regent Hotel in downtown Chicago. His six-year-old daughter, Lily, was asleep on his shoulder, and a bouquet of red roses hung from his hand.
He stayed quiet, not because the insult did not hurt, but because Lily was exhausted after a delayed flight from Denver. A parent learns to swallow pride when a tired child is finally sleeping.
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