“What grandfather?”
The governor stood slowly.
Then he turned toward me.
“Claire, may I speak with you privately?”
I felt every eye in the ballroom land on me.
For years I had been invisible in rooms like this.
Suddenly I was the center of attention.
“What is this about?” I asked.
His expression softened.
“It’s about a promise.”
A strange feeling settled in my chest.
“A promise from whom?”
The governor reached inside his suit jacket.
He removed a weathered envelope.
The paper was yellowed with age.
My breath caught.
