When Rosetta stepped out of the elevator, she wore a calm, unreadable expression. It wasn't the look Tracy had been expecting after Rosetta had left with her father, President Grant.
Tracy's smile faltered as Rosetta approached their table, her composure a far cry from the flustered, humiliated waitress Tracy had imagined.
Rosetta stopped at the table and bowed slightly, directing her words to Jacob. "I'm sorry about earlier. Please believe me, it wasn't intentional."
Jacob, clearly taken aback, set down his glass. "Like I said, it's fine. We've already made another order." His voice was calm, but his gaze lingered on her, a trace of admiration, Rosetta struck a cord in his heart.
Tracy wasn't having it. She straightened in her chair, her tone sharp and demanding. "No, it's not fine," she snapped. "Maybe you should kneel and apologize properly. Then we can talk about forgiveness."
Rosetta raised her head, her gaze steady as she said, "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your understanding." She ignored Tracy entirely.
Tracy's face twisted with anger, her voice rising, realizing a trash picker was looking down on her.
"I see you've grown wings, Rosetta! A little trash picker like you, now a smelling waitress, thinks she can look down on me? Do you even know who I am?"
Rosetta remained silent, her composure unbroken, as she looked at Tracy
"You dare to look at me straight in the eyes?" Tracy's voice rose higher, drawing the attention of nearby diners. "I said kneel!"
Jacob leaned toward Tracy, his voice low but firm. "Tracy, why are you doing this? This isn't necessary. You are doing too much"
Tracy turned her head toward him, her eyes flashing. "And you too? Are you captivated by her too? First Caleb, then my father, and now you. Who's next, my dead mother?"
Her voice dripped with venom. "She's a trash picker, Jacob! A low-life who doesn't belong here! Why are you telling her it's okay, no, it's not, I want her to kneel and beg for forgiveness or I get her fired!"
The tension at the table was high. Jacob's jaw tightened, and several diners openly stared at the scene. Jacob never likes to be attached to dramatic women and Tracy is one hell of a dramatic lady.
He managed to steal a glance at Rosetta and was shocked at her calm composure. He admired her the more.
The commotion grew louder, more diners were attracted to the chaos and loud voice of Tracy.
''Is that not the daughter of the President, Grant? Why is she so loud,'' a diner asked, frowning his brows
''Some of these rich kids are very lawless, see how she has been trying to humiliate the waitress, ever since she stepped in here.'' another diner chimed in.
''Did you notice? I thought I saw wrongly when she pulled a fast one on the waitress and the wine spilled on the handsome young man'' a third diner voiced out quietly.
All these fell into the Manager's ears as she arrived, her expression tensed, stepping between them.
"Miss Tracy Grant," she began cautiously, forcing a polite smile. "Is there an issue here?"
Tracy crossed her arms, glaring at Rosetta. "I want her fired. Tonight."
The manager froze, her face paling. "Miss Grant, I...", Deep in her heart she was stuck knowing Tracy was the daughter of President Grant, the owner of the hotel. How could she go against her wish of not firing Rosetta?
"What's going on here?" Grant's deep, commanding voice cut through the commotion.
He approached the table with calm authority, his sharp gaze flicking from Tracy to Rosetta and back again.
"Dad!" Tracy's voice softened instantly, her anger turning to a carefully constructed smile. "It's nothing. Just a misunderstanding."
Grant ignored Tracy, his eyes settling on the manager. "I've been told there's a problem with your staff?"
Honestly, no one told Grant anything, after Rosetta left his office, he secretly switched on his private CCTV in his office just to keep an eye on Rosetta.
The manager opened her mouth but hesitated, her gaze nervously on Tracy.
"You may speak freely," Grant said.
"Well," the manager began reluctantly, "Miss Grant has requested that Miss Rosetta be… relieved of her duties as a waitress, however, she is one of our best."
Rosetta's heart sank, but she kept her expression neutral when she heard the last part of the sentence.
"That won't be necessary," Grant said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Miss Rosetta is an employee of this establishment, and I will not allow her to be treated unfairly."
Tracy's jaw dropped. "Dad!"
"Enough," Grant interrupted, his voice cutting through her protest.
He turned to Rosetta, his expression softening. "Miss Rosetta, I apologize on behalf of this establishment for the way you've been wrongly treated. Please return to the kitchen and continue your duties."
Rosetta nodded silently, her chest tight as she turned and walked away. But not without giving Tracy an overcomer look. Tracy noticed this and her anger surged higher.
For the first time, Grant secretly compared another young girl to his daughter Tracy, and noticed, the lapses in Tracy. For the very first time, Grant felt he did a bad job raising her.
Back at their table, the manager and Rosetta had left, Tracy grumbled, her hands clenched into fists.
"Why did you call her to your penthouse?" she blurted, glaring at her father. "What did you even say to her? I feel she came back feeling more courageous"
Grant regarded her coolly. "That's between me and Miss Rosetta."
Tracy's eyes widened, her voice rising again. "You're keeping secrets from me now? From your daughter? Over some… some waitress? Dad, she picks trash to sell for a living"
"Tracy!" Grant called her calmly, his voice low but firm, " There is dignity in hard work, at least she is not selling herself for money. Grant paused and turned facing Tracy who seemed a little scared.
'' And why do you think so low of others? Did I waste all these years raising you to look down on other people's misfortune Tracy? If you can't conduct yourself properly, I suggest you leave."
Tracy stared at him, her face flushed with anger, and her skin paled suddenly feeling humiliated in public by her father, ignoring everyone, even Jacob, Tracy grabbed her bag and stormed out of the ballroom.
As finally drew the battle line between her and Rosetta.
Jacob sighed, still processing what just happened and looking more confused, rubbing the back of his neck, he stood to follow her.
"I'm sorry for the commotion, Mr. Grant," he said quietly. "I think I'd better join her."
Grant nodded but said nothing, his thoughts were elsewhere.
Later that night, Grant sat in his private office at the penthouse, he took out a photograph of Evelyn and placed it on his desk. His late wife's kind eyes stared back at him, and he felt he was staring at Rosetta's face.
"Evelyn," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. "I think I've found our daughter." But he couldn't act on instinct alone. He had to be certain.
The next morning, Grant arrived at a poorly modest house on the edge of the city. The lawn was small but tidy, and the paint on the exterior had faded from years of wear.
When the door opened, a frail but sturdy man stood before him. Thomas George's eyes were sharp despite his age, and his posture was straight.
"Mr. Grant?" Thomas asked, his voice cautious.
"Yes," Grant said, extending a hand. "May I come in? I'd like to speak with you about your granddaughter, Rosetta."
Thomas hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside to let him in.
The interior of the house was simple but clean, with a few old photographs lining the walls. Thomas gestured for Grant to sit as he lowered himself into a chair across from him.
"What's this about?" Thomas asked, his tone wary. '' People like you can only be seen gracing the front pages of Forbes magazines or on Television. At first, when I got your call, I thought I was being scammed but here you are in flesh and blood. Should I be worried about seeing you in person in my poor broken house?'' He picked up a glass of warm water and took a sip
Grant leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped. " Not to bite around at all, Grandpa Thomas, I believe Rosetta, your granddaughter, maybe my biological daughter."
Thomas's eyes narrowed. Thomas was about to swallow the water in his mouth when Grant spoke, Thomas almost choked on the water. He coughed the water right out of his mouth, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he stared hard at Grant, but Grant's face showed only the expression of certainty.
''That's a bold claim and a serious one. I may be in my Eighties, but I was there when she was born and I am still here as the only living guardian of Rosetta. I've raised that child from birth till date, and here you are telling me... she's yours? Are you out of your mind?"
Grant nodded. " I also feel the same way that I am out of my mind but, I believe there was a mix-up at the hospital when she was born. I've spent years trying to find my missing daughter." He paused took a deep look at Thomas then continued, he put his hand into his pocket and brought out a picture. Handing it to Thomas
'' Here take a look, at my late wife who died of an untimely Heart attack, searching for our daughter.''
Thomas stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable.
Then took the picture. When he saw the picture of Evelyn, Thomas stood up abruptly, there was no doubt he was looking at the reflection of an older Rosetta.
"You say this is your wife?" Thomas asked, rubbing his hand on his front bald head with one hand.
Grant nodded, ''Yes! Now you understand why I am here. Rosetta and the daughter I have at home, Tracy, were born on the same day, at the same time, and in the same hospital. From a blood donation to my daughter, Tracy, we found we had no blood relationship with her and from investigation, we heard another child was also born at the same time. Maybe just by mistake, they were switched.
Thomas was in shock, he stared at Grant,'' Mistakenly switched? Do you have proof? He asked, still having a little doubt in him, staring at the picture in his hand '' You are sure this is not a case of two different people looking alike?
He asked trying to convince himself that Rosetta was his and not Grant's...
"I want to be certain," Grant said quietly. "If I may, I'd like to perform a DNA test."
Thomas sat back, his gaze still sharp. Hoping this was all a dream. Only in movies or Novels, has he seen things like this. 'Switched at birth'
Thomas murmured to himself before asking Grant "Rosetta doesn't know about this, does she?"
"No," Grant admitted. "And I don't want to tell her until we're sure. It wouldn't be fair to her, in case she is not my daughter, her hopes may be dashed."
Thomas was silent for a long moment before he nodded slowly. "All right. I'll get a sample of her hair for you. He paused turning to face Grant, but it's better not to tell her yet, dashing her hopes may not count, but because she has gone through so much hardship and I don't want her going through trauma.'' Thomas walked into the room quickly.
He returned a few minutes later with a small plastic bag containing Rosetta's strand of hair. "This is from her hairbrush," he said, handing it to Grant. "Do what you need to do."
"Thank you," Grant said sincerely. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
Thomas folded his arms, his expression hard. "If this turns out to be true, you'd better not make promises you can't keep. Like I said, my granddaughter has been through enough."
Grant met his gaze steadily. "If she's my daughter, I'll make sure she never has to struggle again." Grant took another look at Thomas before speaking quietly.
''… That also means your biological granddaughter is Tracy, the daughter I raised instead of Rosetta. If it happens Rosetta is my daughter what will you do about Tracy?
Thomas didn't respond, he stared at Grant, but his silence spoke volumes. He was not willing to accept another child as his granddaughter.
As Grant left the small house, the bag with Rosetta's hair tucked carefully into his pocket, he felt a strange mixture of hope and dread.
The truth was within reach, but what would it cost them all, once it came to light?