Page 133 of Just Let Go

“Well, you should be a finalist,” he said. “You should win the whole thing.”

“But it says something about me sending in the necessary documents after all,” Quinn said. “Grady, I didn’t send them in.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you did and just didn’t realize it. Maybe they found them later?”

“I didn’t. I found them in my office. They were left out of the envelope.”

He scooted over onto the couch, next to her, and took her hand. “I don’t understand why you’re questioning it. This is a good thing. You’re getting exactly what you wanted.”

“There’s more.” It would be hard to say the words out loud. It shouldn’t be, after all this time, but the news had reopened a wound that had taken years to heal. Or maybe it had never healed in the first place. Maybe it was so fresh and raw it kept her frozen, paralyzed, stuck in one place.

And for what? Why did she put so much effort into seeking out a woman who clearly did not want to be found?

“What is it, Q?”

“The letter says my mother was the judge.”

Grady’s face fell. “What do you mean?”

“My mother was here, Grady. She submitted the score sheet on my design.”

“Oh, Quinn,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, don’t be. It’s not your fault she didn’t even want to speak to me.” Another traitor of a tear slipped down her cheek.

He stood and rubbed his temples with both hands, letting out a heavy sigh. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Why did she have a feeling things were about to get a whole lot worse?

“We said no secrets, and I wanted to tell you sooner, but I wasafraid of this. This exact thing that’s happening now. I thought I could protect you from it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I called the Expo. I talked to someone there who figured out a way to get your entry back in the competition.”

“You did what?” She felt nothing but confusion.

He sat down on the coffee table, knees touching hers. “You gave up so quickly, and I knew your design was going to be good. I just didn’t want you to walk away without fighting for what you wanted. You taught me that, Quinn. You’re the reason I’m still here, fighting.”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I know, but they didn’t say they were going to accept the entry. I didn’t find that out until the night of the ball.” His face went white, as if all the blood had been sucked right out of it.

“What do you mean?”

His jaw twitched. He stood.

“Grady, what do you mean you found out the night of the ball?” Her eyes clouded with a fresh veil of tears.

“There was a woman there,” he said. “She spoke to me first. She asked what I thought of the atmosphere. I told her I loved it, especially the flowers. Said I thought you nailed it.” He turned a circle and heaved a sigh. “She guessed that I was the one who’d called.”

“Okay, so, who was she?”

“Your mother.”

“My mother.” The word crossed her lips like a poison. “You spoke to my mother?”

“I didn’t know it was her at first, but she had a copy of that same picture you have hanging in the shop.”

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