Never Yours Again novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Gran's Sewing Box

I did not sleep that night, and by Tuesday I had a list.

It was a short list.

At the top, underlined twice, were the words "Gran's sewing box."

It was my grandmother's, oak with a brass latch, and it held her thimble, her good scissors and a tin of buttons from three decades of coats.

I had left it on the floor of the bedroom closet, because I'd been too angry to carry it.

I texted Rhett at nine in the morning.

"I want my grandmother's sewing box. Tell me when I can come."

He answered in a minute.

"Thursday. Alone. Bring an apology."

I read it twice and put the phone face down.

Shawna looked at me over her cereal.

"Don't," she said.

"I'm not going to Thursday."

"Good. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going today. He's at his mother's all day. She cut his cards, and she's making him sit through a board meeting about the dinner."

"How do you know that?"

"Camille told me. She's still in the campaign, by the way. Constance kept her."

Shawna's eyebrows went up.

"Wow. Okay. And how do you get in? He changed the lock."

I hadn't thought of that.

My phone buzzed with a new message from a number I'd saved last night in a hurry.

"I have a key. I can meet you at the lobby at noon. I won't come up unless you ask. Ellis."

I looked at it for a while.

My rule was a Palgrave rule.

My grandmother's box wasn't.

"Yes," I typed. "Come up."

At noon we rode to the twenty-second floor in an elevator so quiet I could hear the cables.

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