Chapter 32: Radcliffe and Ember

The Lifeline collection opened to the public on a Thursday in spring, in a gallery with my own name over the door.

RADCLIFFE & EMBER, said the sign.

Under it, in smaller letters: DESIGNED BY IMOGEN RADCLIFFE.

I stood in the doorway in a plain green dress with Hazel on my hip and read it twice.

She was five months old and had already thrown her hat into the fountain.

"Mama," she said clearly, to nobody, and then she put her whole fist in her mouth.

"That's not her first word," said Jasper behind me.

"It's her first word."

"It's a sound."

"It's my name."

"She has also said it to the wall."

I laughed, and he kissed my temple, and we walked in together.

The room was full.

Editors, buyers, and women in good coats leaned over glass cases.

The magazine editor who had read my initials with a loupe at the funeral raised her glass across the room.

The rose diamonds lay on black velvet in their heartbeat line, the necklace, the earrings, and the bridal tiara.

The tiara I had bought for three million as Iris Dale sat in the center case on a stand of its own.

A small card beside it read: Proceeds to the Halcyon families.

The heartbeat cufflinks were not on display.

I had sold the diamonds that morning, and the money had gone into the same fund.

Nathan came up beside me with a rabbit-print bag over his shoulder, looking straight ahead.

"Four hundred people build my towers," he said, "and one of them is carrying my niece's diapers."

"You volunteered."

"I was ambushed."

"You bought three rabbits."

"I was thorough."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Chose Her, So I Faked My Death from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.