Chapter 9: The Drawer

Maxim's POV

I ended the meeting in one sentence.

"This board is adjourned," I said, "and Margot Beekman will clear her desk by Friday."

She laughed softly and put her pen away.

"You can't remove me, Maxim. I hold nine percent."

"Then we'll see you at the vote."

I took Elena's elbow and walked her out through forty staring faces.

I let go the moment we reached my office, because I had promised myself I would stop touching her without asking.

She did not sit.

She stood by the window with her coat still on, one hand under the curve of her belly, and she waited.

I had never seen her wait for anything.

Elena fixed problems before they reached me.

"What does she mean?" she said. "What's in the drawer?"

I looked at the bottom left drawer of my desk.

I had not opened it since the first of March.

In six years I'd opened it half a dozen times, and I could have told her the date of each.

I took the key from my pocket.

My hand didn't work properly.

I turned it twice before the lock gave.

Inside was a gray cloth box, and I lifted the lid.

There was a small yellow hat in it, hand-knitted, no bigger than my fist.

I looked at it.

Elena had come across the room without a sound.

She stood at my shoulder and looked at it too.

"Maxim," she said, very quietly.

I closed the lid.

I locked the drawer again and put the key back in my pocket, and then I stood with my palm flat on the desk and tried to breathe.

"Not today," I said. "I'm asking you. I'll tell you. Not today."

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