Chapter 13: The Page in the Drawer

Soren's POV

I had written the page nine days ago, at this same table, and kept it in the drawer under the takeout menus.

It had been waiting for her the whole time.

It was one page.

Lund Holdings, LLC assigned the channel to Hanna Ostrowski, with its name, handles and archive.

It asked for no payment and set no conditions.

I had never found a way to put it in her hand that did not sound like an excuse.

So I took it out of the drawer and set it on the table in front of her, next to the pen.

She read it standing up, in my sweatshirt, with her hair still flat on one side from my pillow.

I watched her read the last line twice.

"There's no catch," I said.

"There's always a catch."

"There isn't one. Sign under your name and it's yours. Then it doesn't matter what I am."

She did not look up.

"You wrote this before last night."

"I wrote it the day I signed for the channel."

"Why didn't you give it to me then?"

That was the question, and I had my answer ready, and it was a bad one.

"Because the first time I got to say your name to you, I wanted you to have a reason to keep listening."

It was out before I could stop it.

I had never said anything that stupid to anyone in thirty-two years.

Hanna put the pen to the page.

Her hand shook, then steadied.

She signed in her round, quick handwriting.

I signed on my line below hers.

For a moment the paper was the only thing in the room.

She pushed it back across the table.

"Make me a copy," she said. "Date it today."

I did that in the den, on the old printer.

My hands were not as steady as they had been at the table.

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