Chapter 158

• After Julian went back to his book, I stayed at the table. The sketch was still wrapped in its paper, sitting between two pools of light from the overhead fixture.
• I unwrapped it again, slower than before. The paper fell open until the frame lay bare.
• My eyes went straight to the fabric swatch. Pale gray silk. The kind that seemed to hold light inside itself. The edges were frayed, the weave loosened with time. My fingers hovered over it. I did not want to risk pulling a single thread loose.