do.”
The guests looked bewildered.
Emma continued proudly.
“I draw pictures for her.”
The governor nodded.
“My wife keeps every single one.”
A murmur swept through the ballroom.
I suddenly understood.
Months ago, Emma had started drawing pictures for elderly patients at the hospital whenever I volunteered.
One patient had become especially fond of her.
Sarah.
The governor’s wife.
I never knew who she was.
To Emma, she was simply Sarah.
A nice woman who loved purple crayons.
Governor Hayes reached into his jacket.
Then he pulled out a folded
