Chapter 15: Frank's Second Sheet

Kurt's POV

At three in the morning the hotel hallway hummed, and Casey was asleep with her hand under her cheek.

She had come back to my room straight from Rosalie's.

She kicked off her shoes and said she didn't want to talk, only to lie down.

So I lay down beside her.

She fell asleep in the middle of a sentence about invoices.

Before that she had said one thing about the dress.

"In March," she said. "Denise bought Lindy that dress in March. Before I ever canceled anything."

"She planned it," I said.

"She planned all of it. I'm not crying about it. I'm just going to remember it on Friday."

Then she had gone back to the invoices, and I let her.

She rolled toward me, and her knee pressed against my thigh.

I stayed very still, and looked at the water stain on the ceiling.

That was the scar Casey had touched.

A winch cable had snapped the week my father died and opened my ribs, and I had finished hauling his skiff in anyway.

Frank Bellweather used to sit on an overturned bucket outside my shop every July and talk about the older girl in Ohio.

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