“This resort is for successful people,” Mom said. My sister added, “Not warehouse workers.” I stayed quiet. Moments later, the general manager approached me: “Ms. Williams, we need your approval for your family’s reservation today.”

Vanessa stopped him.

She lifted three crystal glasses.

One went to Mom.

She kept another.

Then, after a tiny pause, she kept the third as well.

She gave me an exaggerated look of sympathy.

“Oh, sorry, Maya. I forgot.”

She took a sip.

“You probably don’t want to deal with the tipping expected around here.”