Chapter 12: Nothing Happened

"She can't do that," Breck said.

"She can," Rand said. "Twenty member signatures. Spouse members count. I wrote half those bylaws, and I hated them then."

"Twenty," I said. "Out of seventy-seven pink packets."

Abram set his phone face down on the prep table and didn't say anything at all.

On Thursday I left the yard at four, showered off the wire dust, and put on clean jeans and my good boots.

I didn't own another dress. I wasn't wearing that one again.

At six-thirty the Copper Room's main dining room was full.

They'd pushed the tables to the walls and set out rows of folding chairs, and still people stood along the back.

A hundred and fifty members, Rand said. Maybe more.

The ones I'd seen in masks looked different without them. Lawyers. Surgeons. A woman who owned half the car dealerships on McDowell.

They looked at me when I came in.

Then they looked away.

The woman with the silver bob caught my eye from the third row and gave me one small nod.

Abram found me at the bar before it started.

He looked tired. I don't think he'd slept since the email.

"Renner." He kept his voice low. "Whatever she asks, let me answer it. Please."

"Why?"

"Because she wants you to blow up in front of them. And I know how to make her lose."

I looked at him for a long time.

"Okay," I said. "I'll stand right here."

"Thank you." He touched the back of my hand on the bar, once. "Trust me."

The bartender set a Coke in front of me and squeezed my shoulder on the way past.

At seven exactly, my mother walked in.

White sheath dress. Pearls. No emerald, no wedding ring, a bare left hand she kept folded over her right.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Stepdad and His Friends Bred Me During the Birthday Blackout from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.