The Seventh Time novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: Newsprint

Killian caught up with me in the stairwell of my building at eleven o'clock, and I let him.

Tara had gone home in a cab, muttering about stupid men and stupider fathers.

The brooch was pinned to my own coat.

I climbed the steps ahead of him, and he stayed one stair below me the whole way.

At the second landing the light was out.

I turned around in the dark.

"I didn't sign it," he said, before I could open my mouth.

"The announcement."

"Any of it. I haven't spoken to the newspaper in my life. I didn't know until she said it in the bar."

"Your father signed it for you."

"My father signs everything for me." His voice was raw. "That's what you've been watching for three years."

"Then do something about it."

"I called the editor from the sidewalk. He said Dad's lawyer sent it in Wednesday. It runs Monday."

"Can you stop it?"

"I can ask him to stop it."

"That's not the same thing."

"I know."

The stairwell smelled of cardamom and wet wool.

Somewhere below us a door opened and shut, and the building's heat ticked in the pipes.

I could see his face a little, in the light from the street window.

He looked ten years older than the man who'd stood on that stage.

"Why did you come to the bar?" I asked.

"I needed to see you."

"You've seen me."

"I needed to see you not be sorry for me."

"I'm not."

"Good." He swallowed. "That's the best thing anyone's said to me in a month."

He was one step down, so that our eyes were level.

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