Chapter 11: The Vote

Morning came grey and loud.

I woke on my mother's old sofa under a sheet, with Rowan's jacket over my shoulders and a phone ringing on the floor.

He was already on his feet, in yesterday's shirt, making coffee in a kitchen that had no coffee.

The neighbor had left a paper bag on the porch.

It held a thermos, two mugs, and a note that said, Eat something. I'm Number 14.

I laughed until my eyes stung.

"She's wonderful," Rowan said.

"She's the only person on this street who ever sent me home with a pie."

The phone rang again.

It was a number I did not know, and I put it on speaker.

"Mrs. Verran," said a smooth voice. "It's Tobias."

Rowan went rigid.

I held up a finger.

"Good morning, Tobias."

"You've had a night," he said. "I imagine you're confused. I'd like to simplify things."

"Go on."

"Twenty million dollars for your shares. Cash, today. You'd never have to see any of us again."

Rowan's face did not move, but his hand closed on the counter.

"That's ten times your last offer," I said.

"The last offer was for your absence. This one is for your signature."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you'll find out how quickly a maid becomes a scandal."

"I'll think about it," I said, and hung up.

Rowan looked at the phone and then at me.

"You're not going to think about it."

"I am," I said. "Twenty million dollars is a great deal of money."

His shoulders dropped half an inch.

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