I dressed like a homeless man and walked into my own restaurant to see how my employees treated people who couldn’t afford a decent meal. I expected some unfriendly attitudes and perhaps a few rude remarks. Instead, I uncovered something so alarming that I eventually had to contact the police

Hector remained silent.

Then Josie appeared at the kitchen entrance.

She had returned for something she’d forgotten.

“Josie,” I said, “would you sit with us?”

She hesitated before pulling up another crate.

The three of us sat quietly.

“I want to thank you,” I told her.

“For what?”

“For treating someone with kindness when you thought he had nothing.”

She shook her head.

“I didn’t know you owned the place.”

“I know. That’s why your kindness meant so much.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

I asked whether she’d ever noticed suspicious activity at the hostess counter.

She admitted she’d once questioned Brittany about an unusual device, but had been told it was backup equipment.

Shortly afterward, Trevor began criticizing her for offering complimentary coffee or helping customers.

“He kept threatening to fire me,” she said. “I thought I was just bad at my job.”

“You weren’t,” I told her.