“Okay.”
“And about the house…” she added carefully. “If you really decide to sell, I could… try to buy it. I don’t have much, but I’d take care of it.”
I didn’t even think. “You can have it. I don’t care about the money. I just want to leave.”
Her lips curved slightly, but she turned away too quickly for me to read it.
“You can stay here tonight,” she repeated.
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over.
The note. The way Mr. Chen spoke. The way Mrs. Kline kept pressing about the house. The lilac perfume in the shop.
“That’s not just a coincidence,” I whispered into the dark.
I sat up slowly. My eyes drifted to the chair where the dress hung. Something about it felt wrong now.
I walked over. The fabric was still soft under my fingers, familiar in a way that made my chest ache. But the garment bag around it—
I frowned. “That’s not yours.”
Grandma Lorna made everything herself, especially covers for her dresses. She used to say, ‘If it matters, you don’t trust store-bought.’
This bag looked new.
“The dress wasn’t hidden. It was placed. And the note…” I stepped back. “That was meant for me to find.”
At that moment, I knew exactly what I needed to do next.
