The marble floors of the Cloud Peak Hotel's washroom area gleamed under crystal chandeliers. I adjusted my cufflinks, checking my reflection in the ornate mirror. The tailored suit transformed my appearance completely. Gone was the rustic mountain boy. In his place stood a man who belonged in these gilded halls.
The washroom door opened behind me. Two women entered, their voices carrying the sharp edge of gossip.
"Can you believe the guest list tonight?" one said. "Half of New York City's elite are here."
"All to celebrate some mysterious miracle doctor," the other replied. "I wonder what he's really like."
I recognized those voices immediately. Bella and Clara Morgan. The sisters who had orchestrated my public humiliation just days ago.
They hadn't noticed me yet, too absorbed in their conversation to pay attention to the well-dressed stranger at the mirror.
"Father's getting worse," Clara said, her voice dropping. "He can barely stand without help."
