Back when William was designing this place, Elsie somehow managed to kill her prized cactus.
And that cactus had already survived her killing off, like, a dozen potted plants.
Cacti are supposed to be unkillable, right? But not in her hands. Even after a year of careful care, it still bit the dust.
She’d felt totally useless at the time and cried in his arms, mumbling, “Wish flowers were made of gold so they’d never die.”
Who knew he’d actually take it seriously.
Not only did he swap out every flower and plant in the hotel with gold ones, he even planted a golden tree right in the center of the lobby—a tree that would never wither.
The more Elsie thought about it now, the more her thoughts spiraled. She forced herself to lie down and try to sleep.
Because the hotel w
