"Stella! Where the hell do you think you're going!"
Baldy Morrison flicked his half-smoked cigarette to the ground.
Yvonne stared at the trash bag in my hands, her eyes gleaming.
"Mr. Morrison, this cleaning lady's been stealing from guests. I caught her taking tips."
She reached for my bag. "What's in there? All lumpy and full. You steal some hotel sheets or what?"
I held the bag tight against my chest. "It's just trash!"
Yvonne let out a cold laugh. "Trash? Then why you running so fast? Guilty conscience!"
Her sharp nails dug into the back of my hand.
The bag tore at the corner. A small stack of bills peeked out from the rip.
Baldy Morrison gasped. "Money? Where'd you get all that cash!"
He grabbed at the bag with both hands, trying to pry it away. "Hotel policy says all guest
