Klara Devine & Georgina Gee __top__ -

For a long moment, Georgina studied her. The garden party hummed around them—the clink of glasses, the distant thwack of croquet mallets. Then Georgina leaned in. “I have a counter-offer, Miss Devine.”

Georgina turned, and Klara was struck by the sharp intelligence in her eyes. These were not the rheumy eyes of a dotty old collector. They were the eyes of a chess grandmaster. “Late sixties, dear. And you’re too young to know Pucci from Prada unless you’ve done your homework.” Georgina took a slow sip of her drink. “Klara Devine. I was wondering when you’d slither out of the woodwork.” klara devine & georgina gee

Klara’s hand, which had been inching toward the beaded bag, stopped. “Condition?” For a long moment, Georgina studied her

“What other item?”

Georgina smiled, and for the first time, Klara saw not an adversary, but a kindred spirit—a woman who loved beautiful, broken things. “The diary in the attic. The one bound in cracked Moroccan leather. You found it while you were scoping out my house, didn’t you? You read the first few pages.” “I have a counter-offer, Miss Devine

A knot loosened in Klara’s chest. “It was beautiful. Her handwriting. Her courage.”