Chapter 7: Hargrove House

"That's all I came to say," I told the room. "Thank you for the roast beef."

Somebody laughed. Then the whole hall laughed, warm and shaky, and the applause came again.

I walked off the stage with my heart in my throat.

Behind me, I heard Mr. Hargrove stand up.

He did it smoothly, buttoning his jacket.

"A clerical error," he said into the nearest microphone.

"Mrs. Rafferty's termination was a mistake in our office. She will be reinstated on Sunday with full back pay."

He spread his hands.

"I apologize to her and to this community."

The donors clapped for him, too.

I stood in the wings with Cassie's hand on my arm.

At the back of the hall, my mother put her face in her hands.

"You did that," Cassie whispered. "You did that."

"He did it to save his own face."

"He did it because you made him."

I found my mother after the dessert. We held each other in the coat room for a long time.

"Go home with Cassie," I said. "I'll be along."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to say something to someone."

She looked at me for a long moment, and then she touched my cheek. "Be careful, baby."

Mr. Hargrove caught me in the corridor behind the hall.

He was alone, with one hand in his pocket.

"Miss Rafferty."

"Mr. Hargrove."

"That was a clever speech."

"It was true."

"True things can still be an ambush."

His voice was pleasant. His eyes were not.

"You have a gift, Miss Rafferty. I'd be careful where I spend it."

He straightened his cuff.

"Scholarships are renewed every year, and the board reads my recommendations."

My mouth went dry.

"Is that a threat?"

"It's an observation." He smiled slightly. "Stay away from my son."

He walked back into the hall.

I stood in the corridor with my hands cold, and I understood that the fight had only just begun.

"Rafferty."

Drake was leaning against the wall at the end of the corridor, tie loosened, jacket over his arm. He had been there the whole time.

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