The remaining books, I explained, would become part of Owen’s collection.
“Even if they’re valuable?” Declan asked.
“Yes.”
“Why wouldn’t you sell everything?”
“Because Owen loves them. Some things are worth keeping.”
He shook his head.
I didn’t argue.
A few evenings later, Declan sat across from me at the kitchen table.
“Layla, I’ve been thinking,” he began.
I waited.
“I owe you an apology. I called your grandmother’s house a terrible investment, and I dismissed the comic books without understanding what they were.”
I studied his face.
He appeared sincere.
But one question had been bothering me ever since we discovered the chest.
“Would you still be apologizing if those comics were worthless?”
He hesitated.
“Layla, why does that matter? We could be rich.”
“Because you only seem to respect my decision now that there’s money involved.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“That’s not entirely fair.”
