"What?" Esme exclaimed. Her features contorted with disbelief and frustration as she processed the receptionist's words.
"Miss Shaw." But before she could voice her protest further, Silas's voice cut through the din, drawing her attention with a quiet intensity. He moved in closer and said in a low voice, "It's late now. Adjust tonight. I'll see what I can do tomorrow."
With a resigned sigh, Esme relented, her shoulders slumping in defeat as the weight of exhaustion settled over her. It was indeed late, and the thought of finding a new hotel felt like another exhausting hurdle. With a reluctant nod, she conceded, "Okay."
The receptionist's smile, though genuine, did little to ease Esme's growing unease. She apologized once again for the inconvenience.