Chapter 8: After the Surgery

Simon's POV

I saw Delaney Radbourne follow Abigail out of the ballroom, and I put my glass down.

The two partners at my table kept talking about a zoning appeal.

"Excuse me," I said, and went after them.

The cloakroom was at the end of a long hall, with its door half open.

I heard Delaney's voice before I reached it.

"You think this is about money?"

I stopped outside the door.

I will not pretend I was only being polite. I was a lawyer, and I wanted to hear what came next.

Abigail's answer was calm.

"I think you want my house. I think you want my husband's name on it, and my daughter in it."

"You don't know what I want."

"Then tell me."

There was a pause.

"Not here," Delaney said.

The door swung wide.

She came out in her silver gown with my client's wrap draped over her arm, saw me, and did not break stride.

"Mr. Fessenden," she said brightly. "Mrs. Farwell dropped this."

She handed me the wrap and walked back toward the ballroom.

It was the first time I had seen her face without the smile, and I did not like it.

Abigail stood by the hooks with her hand on the wall.

"She says it isn't about money."

"What is it about?"

"I don't know yet."

She was pale, and I took the wrap and settled it on her shoulders.

My hands were not steady.

I had waited seventeen years to put that wrap on her, and I did it in a cloakroom with a stranger's perfume still in the air.

"I'll take you home," I said.

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