“Oh, they’re really not. The Sinful Threads holiday merchandise that was previewed in New York is a hit. We have orders from distributors all over the country. The numbers are ridiculous. That’s what Louisa called about. If we plan to meet these orders, we’ll need to ramp up production. She thinks we should consider limiting sales.”
“Isn’t it better to sell more?” I asked.
“Not really. We learned early with Sinful Threads that the exclusivity of our merchandise allowed us to create a higher quality product, charge more, and make higher profits. If the market is flooded with a product, it becomes less desired.” She laughed. “I think about brand-name purses and outlet malls.”
“Like you shopped at an outlet?”
Her brown eyes widened. “I most certainly did. Kennedy did.”
“Araneae Sparrow doesn’t.”
“No, and Araneae Sparrow doesn’t shop anywhere very often.”
That was true. We all had personal shoppers who knew our likes and dislikes, our sizes, and our styles. Walking aimlessly around a store or shopping center was one of the freedoms we’d relinquished as wives of top men in the Sparrow outfit.
I’d had more freedom in the past. That ended about the same time Araneae came to the tower. Now the idea of walking through an open-air market gives me the chills. I think the men’s warnings along with the recent attempts on our safety have helped to ensure our willingness to stay put in the tower and let others do some of those activities for us.
“Okay,” I said with a wave. “Enjoy your numbers and let me know if you hear from Ruby. I’ll be around.”
As I turned to go, Araneae stood. “Lorna, I remember more.”
I wrapped my arms around my midsection, recalling the man named Jet. “Do you remember a woman?”
Araneae nodded. “And a man she called Jet.”
I nodded. “I remember him, but I can only recall hearing her. Did she ever say her name?”
“No, but I remember she was very stark and seemed in charge.”
I tried to recall. “I explained it to Reid like my memories are a recorded television show and I am watching it from the end to the beginning. I remember the time before I was found, and slowly I’m recalling ones further back but not being taken or even being at the ranch.”
“The security video from the ranch shows we were unconscious when we were taken.” Araneae reached out and put her hand on my arm. “Lorna, I remember almost all of it.” Her soft brown eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. “I can never thank you enough for the way you took care of me. I don’t know if I would have survived if you hadn’t been there.”
Swallowing, I laid my other hand on hers and grinned. “I don’t remember that. I’m sure I did what anyone else would have done.”
Araneae shook her head. “No. I remember the woman questioning me, and she asked me about you and Laurel.” A tear slid down her cheek. “She was a bitch.”
“The woman? Did she hurt you?”
“Yes, her.” Araneae took a step away and paced between the two desks. “No, not like that. She said things about both of you, trying to make me choose one.”
Something clicked. “Choose one of us.” My eyes opened wide. “I think she asked me to do the same. I remember now. It was you or Laurel.”
“Yes, for me it was you or Laurel too.”
“She had blonde hair.”
Araneae nodded. “I couldn’t do it. I wanted to tell you because you were so good, and God, Lorna, I love you. You were here in this tower when I got here, and from the very beginning, you made me feel welcome.” She shook her head. “Even so, I couldn’t choose one. I wouldn’t.”
I reached for her shoulders and smiled. “I didn’t either. I wouldn’t. I remember that now, too. She was upset, but I couldn’t.” I let go and hummed. “One of her hands seemed different.”
“I remember she wore gloves.”
“I’m still not remembering it all.”
“The things she said.” Araneae took a deep breath. “They made me think about what you do around here, and I’m sorry I’m not more appreciative or helpful.”
“I’m not.” I inhaled. “We all have our roles and that’s what makes this family of misfits work. I love Sinful Threads products, but I don’t want to run a company. I couldn’t begin to do what Laurel does, and even Madeline is finding her way here and at the institute. Without one of us, it wouldn’t be the same.”