Chapter 24: Gallivan

I woke up on my grandmother's hall floor with a quilt over me and a cedar smell in my hair.

The chest was still open.

Rafe was already in the kitchen, in yesterday's trousers, frying eggs in the old pan.

"The Row Report posted at six," he said. "I haven't looked."

"Why not?"

"I thought you'd want to be first."

I took the phone from the table and sat down on the stool.

The headline was in bold letters.

JOANNA GALLIVAN TAKES THE HEAD TABLE.

Under it ran a photograph of me in blue silk, taken from the back of the ballroom.

I was holding a place card in my hand.

The thin man in the leather jacket had taken it.

His name sat in small type under the picture, over the story.

The first line of his story said, For six years I called this woman by a name I invented.

The second line said, Her name is Joanna Gallivan, and she is a seamstress.

I read it twice, and then I scrolled down to the comments.

The top one had ninety thousand likes.

It said, Honestly she should have been at the head of that table from the first E-cup.

I laughed so hard I had to put the phone down.

"What is it?" said Rafe.

"They've turned it around."

"Good." He slid eggs onto two plates. "I could've told them that."

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