Chapter 23: The Cedar Chest

The cedar chest stood in my grandmother's hallway where Rafe had set it down over a week ago.

I had walked past it every morning.

I hadn't opened it once.

At two in the morning I stopped in front of it, still in my blue silk, with the place card in my pocket.

"Open it," Rafe said, behind me.

"I'm afraid it's empty."

"Then it's empty. You'll know."

I knelt and lifted the lid.

The smell came up first, sweet and sharp, cedar and lavender and my grandmother's hands.

On top lay a folded quilt in faded blue and white.

Under the quilt were her thimbles, forty or fifty of them, in a tin that had held shortbread.

Tucked into the lid of the tin was an envelope with my name on it.

Rafe sat on the hall floor beside me and said nothing.

I opened it.

The writing was shaky and slanted, the way it got at the end.

Jo,

If you are reading this, you have left, and I am proud of you.

You can take a thing apart and put it back right. Don't let anyone talk you into leaving it torn.

Look after Lacey. She is soft, and she wants everything without the work. Love her, but never let her carry your keys.

Eat something.

Gran

I laughed, and then I was crying, with the paper held flat against my chest.

Rafe pulled me into his lap, silk and all.

"She knew," I said.

"She knew something."

"Never let her carry your keys."

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