“He had to go away for work,” I said, twisting my ring again. “That is all.”
The lies felt heavy in my mouth, but I had to keep the room quiet.
I had to keep them safe from the truth of how he had simply packed his bags and walked out when the diagnoses came back.
A firm, polite knock sounded at the heavy oak door.
I opened it to find Daniel Harper standing in the hallway, his hands clasped behind his back.
He carried a small object wrapped in a white linen cloth.
“I apologize for the interruption,” Mr. Harper said, stepping into the room. “This was delivered for you.”
He placed the object on the writing desk near the window.
As the linen cloth fell away, it revealed a dark walnut box, its surface polished to a dull shine.
My hand went to my collarbone, my fingers tracing the collar of my shirt.
“What is that?” I asked.
