Chapter Thirteen: The Wrong Kind of Loyalty
The food-safety officials requested information from the relevant businesses and explained the procedures they would follow.
They did not accuse anyone of poisoning guests or announce a conclusion about the species of mushroom involved.
Their immediate concern was preventing further service of material that had not been reliably identified.
Helena cooperated and arranged for the held goods to remain secured.
The pavilion’s cooking staff, who had received conflicting directions, were relieved to hear a clear order from the exhibition.
One young cook asked whether she would lose her entire day’s pay.
Helena contacted the staffing contractor and asked for immediate clarification.
Thomas saw the exchange and understood that even a sensible shutdown imposed costs on people who had made none of the risky decisions.
He quietly offered to pay the workers for an alternative food demonstration using verified ingredients, provided the organizer and staff agreed and all requirements were met.
Helena refused to decide on the spot.
“I won’t replace one unreviewed arrangement with another because a wealthy owner wants to help,” she said.
Thomas accepted the correction.
“Then I can contribute to the staff compensation fund you’re organizing without buying an event slot.”
“That would be useful,” Helena replied.
Lily watched the conversation with interest.
Thomas had needed a second person to tell him where good intentions ended and real responsibility began.
Grant and Kroll were interviewed separately.
Walter supplied a careful written account of the sample he had inspected and the limitations of his findings.
Celia provided her tasting notes voluntarily through the appropriate channels.
The businesses retained the existing packages and receiving information for review.
None of those steps produced an instant verdict.
Lily found that reassuring rather than disappointing.
A real investigation was slower than a dramatic accusation because somebody had to be precise.
Late that afternoon, Felix called Lily from the Bellwether.
“There’s something I should have said in the meeting,” he told her.
“Then tell Simone.”
“She’s busy with inspectors.”
“Leave her a message and tell Olivia as well.”
Felix hesitated.
“Grant offered me a permanent management position if I kept the Tuesday tasting off the kitchen calendar.”
Lily sat down on a bench outside the exhibition hall.
“Did you accept?”
“I said I wanted the position.”
“That’s different from what you did afterward.”
“I signed the crates in, and I didn’t tell Simone.”
“Then that’s the part you need to tell her.”
“They’re going to fire me.”
“I can’t promise otherwise.”
He let out a long breath.
“I kept thinking if I did everything Grant wanted, one day I’d be the person who could change things.”
“What would you have changed first?” Lily asked.
Felix was silent.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
Lily thought about the same answer she had given Simone the previous night.
“Then maybe you need to figure that out before you ask for a title.”
Felix thanked her and said he would speak with Olivia.
Lily returned to the pavilion, where Walter was seated beside Thomas near the harbor-facing windows.
He was eating a plain cheese sandwich from the exhibition cafe.
“Did you get enough for lunch?” she asked.
“I paid for this one myself,” he replied.
“I wasn’t checking your finances.”
“I know.”
He smiled and offered her half.
She declined because she had finally eaten a proper meal.
Thomas asked whether she wanted to attend the staff follow-up meeting the next day.
“I’m still deciding if I want the job,” Lily said.
“The meeting matters whether or not I return.”
He nodded.
“Then I hope you come as someone whose opinion matters, not as somebody asking permission to speak.”
Lily looked out at the harbor.
Workers were dismantling the North Quay poster.
As the huge sheet rolled inward, Walter’s printed name disappeared from view.
For the moment, that small correction was enough.
