chest as if she had forgotten it was there. The moment she saw him, her face registered a full second before her voice caught up.

“Sir? Is Sophie all right? Is something — ”

“She is fine. She is sleeping.”

Then he held up the silk.

Clare went completely still. He watched her eyes move over the fabric, the shape of it, the letter, the faint ghost of a stain that could no longer be seen but that they both somehow still saw.

“May I come in?”

She stepped back without answering.