Chapter 10: Forty-One Percent

Shane held my phone at arm's length and looked at the screen.

"Locked," he said, with a small sad smile. "Of course it is."

"Give it back."

"I'll keep it safe for you until you've rested."

"Everything on it is backed up," I said, loud enough for the whole room. "Three places. Give it back."

His smile didn't change.

His fingers did.

They opened, and my phone dropped onto the marble floor of the shop and cracked across the face.

"Oh no," Shane said. "How clumsy of me."

The board wives gasped.

Nobody said he'd done it on purpose.

I looked at the phone, and then I looked at him.

"You did that in front of fifteen people."

"I dropped your phone, Lena. You're very upset."

The shop door chimed.

Malcolm crossed the carpet with his hands in his pockets.

He crouched, picked up the phone, and slid it into his coat.

"Thank you," he said to Shane, pleasantly. "I'll see that it's repaired."

"I'm sorry," Shane said. "Who are you, again?"

"Someone with a backup."

For the first time since the dinner, Shane's eyes went flat.

Malcolm held out his arm to me.

"Ms. Caldwell. Your father asked to see you."

He had not been asked.

I took his arm anyway, and we walked out.

Brynn stared after us with her fists full of satin.

She didn't say a word.

Dad's study smelled of cigar and old paper.

He sat at his desk with his hands folded and his glasses pushed up on his forehead.

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