Part 1They Booked Their Reunion At My Hotel

Ten years after being kicked out of the high school group chat, someone added me back. The group name had changed to "Sophomore Class 3 Tenth Anniversary Reunion." I scrolled through the chat history.

Novak, the class president, had posted: "The reunion location is set: The Haven Hotel, a new five-star place in town."

Below it, a string of replies: "So fancy," "Can't wait."

Claire posted a voice message. I tapped to play it. Her familiar voice, laced with a hint of pride, chimed: "I know someone at the hotel; they gave our class an insider's rate. Only fifty-eight dollars a person."

I stared at the screen, a slow smile spreading across my face.

The Haven Hotel.

The one I’d officially opened just last month.

The name on the business license, under "Legal Representative," read three words:

Evelyn Howard.

When they kicked me out back then, they probably never imagined that ten years later, they’d be dining on my turf.

* * *

I wasn’t in a hurry to speak in the group chat. Messages popped up one after another. I leaned back in my office chair, slowly scrolling up.

Claire posted a picture of the hotel lobby, a promotional shot she’d pulled from online. "Girls, isn't this lobby incredible? My friend is a senior executive here; she got us a forty percent discount."

Forty percent discount.

I almost laughed aloud. The Haven's banquet hall package was thirty-two dollars per person, but she was charging fifty-eight. My old classmate hadn’t seen me in ten years, but her math skills had certainly improved.

Novak chimed in below: "Claire, you're amazing, so well-connected."

Claire replied with a hair-flip emoji: "Of course. After all these years in this city, you're bound to have some resources."

Felicity also popped up. "Wow, Claire, you're incredible! Kyle and I will definitely be there!"

Felicity.

Seeing that name, my finger paused on the screen. Ten years ago, she was my best friend. Without a doubt.

I flipped my phone face down on the desk and turned to look out the floor-to-ceiling window. Forty-seventh floor, the city lights spread out beneath my feet. Every brick, every pane of glass in this office, I had earned myself.

My phone vibrated again. Novak tagged me: "Evelyn, you're still in town, right? Are you coming?"

Silence for a few seconds.

Then Claire replied: "She's still in town? I thought she'd gone back to her hometown long ago." Followed by a "mouth-covered-laughing" emoji.

I looked at that emoji, my lips twitching. I typed two words:

"I'll be there."

Sent.

The group was quiet again for a moment, then Novak sent a thumbs-up: "Great, then we'll all be there!"

No one responded to my message. No one said "long time no see," no one said "looking forward to it."

And rightly so.

In their memory, Evelyn Howard was the girl who stole Claire’s necklace, was scorned by the entire class, and shamefully left the group. Who would welcome a thief?

I put my phone down and opened the hotel management system on my computer. The day after tomorrow, December 21st, Banquet Hall B, Sophomore Class 3 Reunion, booked by—Claire.

Three hundred dollars advance payment received. For a thirty-person reunion, she paid three hundred in advance.

I picked up the intercom on my desk and pressed a button. "Ms. Chen, I'd like to review the schedule for the class reunion booking in Hall B the day after tomorrow."

May Chen, the hotel’s Director of Operations, replied from the other end: "Ms. Howard, is there any issue with that booking?"

"No. Just treat it as a normal reception." I paused. "But all staff, please do not call me Ms. Howard the day after tomorrow."

May Chen was silent for two seconds. "Understood."

I hung up the intercom and picked up my phone again. In the group chat, Novak was tallying attendees, and Claire was posting the reunion agenda—red carpet check-in, talent show, award ceremony.

Awards.

I scrolled down the page and saw the categories: "Most Successful Award," "Most Beautiful Comeback Award," "Most Popular Award." The person who started the poll was Claire.

I put my phone down and stood by the window. The night I was kicked out of the group chat when I was eighteen, I also stood by a window. But back then, there were no city lights outside. Only a drab apartment building and the noisy sounds of party downstairs.

Ten years.

I clenched my fist, my fingernails digging into my palm. Some scores, it was time to settle.