A trace of mockery flashed in the woman's eyes, as if to say, 'Just an assistant. How nosy.'
But the look was fleeting, gone in an instant.
"I'm homeless and have no money—" Tears streamed down her face, making her look utterly pitiful.
Ethan Ellsworth took out his wallet, pulled out a thick wad of foreign currency, and handed it to her. "You can exchange this at a bank. It should be a good amount. Take it. There's nothing else I can do for you."
She didn't take the money. Instead, she said, "Could you let me come back with you to your home? I'm afraid my sister's accomplices haven't all been caught, and they'll come after me. I'm scared they'll retaliate. I'd even be willing to work as a maid, would that be okay?"
Nora Ainsworth said firmly, "No. He's not married, so he doesn't need a maid. Just take the money he's offering you. Coming back with us is out of the question."
Finished, she looked at Quentin Grant. "Let's get out of here. We can leave the rest to the police."
