2.
Early the next morning, I dug the wooden box out from the very bottom of the storage cabinet.
The lid opened, and there it lay, the restoration blade, neat in its slot.
The white tape wrapped around the handle had yellowed. I had wound it there myself, three years ago.
I smoothed a sheet of paper flat and made the first cut.
The tip veered off in a wobbly arc.
The second cut was worse.
By the third, the web of my hand ached from the friction, and tiny beads of blood welled up and smeared the edge of the paper.
Percy came downstairs just as I was swapping in a fresh sheet.
“You're going to Cloudcrest Abbey. When did you decide that?”
“Last night.”
He crossed to the table, his gaze dropping to the wooden box.
“You haven't touched a restoration blade in three years.”
“That's why I'm practicing.”
“Conditions at Cloudcrest Abbey are rough. Big temperature swings between day and night up in the mountains. Your stomach's bad, your wrist has an old injury, and this is a formal trial restoration, not a sightseeing trip.”
“I know.”
Percy drew in a long breath.
“You could start with something simpler.”
“The university archive room, or organizing image records. Both are close to home, and there'd be people around to look after you.”
I lifted my head and looked at him, not understanding.
“Are you arranging a job for me, or are you turning down the trial on my behalf?”
His face darkened a shade.
“Gladys, I just don't think it's good for you to jump straight to something this demanding.”
“Three years ago I already passed the edge-zone baseline testing.”
“That was three years ago.”
“Three years ago I didn't keep going because you were preparing for your professional review.”
He rubbed the space between his brows.
“You were the one who said you wanted to stay and help me.”
I folded up the bloodied sheet and kept working.
“Right. And you just told me, every so often, that there was no need. Once the review was over, no need.”
“Then you took on a new research project, and still no need.”
Percy's fingers gripped the edge of the table.
He was about to say something more when the doorbell rang.
Julia stood outside the door, a gray file envelope in her hand.
“Mr. Matthews left his hard drive at my place. I was passing by, so I brought it over.”
Once she was inside, her eyes landed on the restoration blade on the table.
“So his wife used to work on the north wall restoration?”
Before I could answer, she turned back to Percy.
“Didn't you say she couldn't keep at it three years ago because of health reasons?”
I looked at Percy with something that wasn't quite a smile.
But he didn't correct her.
Julia opened the file envelope and pulled out a document.
“The image-interpretation group needs the old north-wall records this time. I've already organized the edge-testing data from three years ago into an attachment.”
“If you're just going to sit in and observe, I can send you the procedures ahead of time.”
Her words were polite, but her fingers pressed down on that stack of records.
That was the material I'd pulled several all-nighters to compile, three years ago.
“My work doesn't need you sending me the procedures.”
Percy took the file envelope.
“Julia, put the material in the study.”
“Okay.”
As she turned to go, she added something, as if it had just come to mind:
“Oh, right, Mr. Matthews, we're going up to Cloudcrest Abbey with the image group tomorrow. I'm still handling project liaison.”
I looked at Percy.
“You're going too?”
“Yes.”
“When was that decided?”
“At the joint project meeting last week.”
“You knew I'd gotten the trial-restoration credential?”
He didn't answer right away.
This time, the silence was answer enough.
“I thought you wouldn't go.”
“So it isn't that you didn't tell me.”
I picked the restoration blade back up.
“You just decided for me that I wouldn't go.”
Percy's jaw tightened.
“Both teams will be up on that mountain. Running into each other will be awkward.”
“And who's the one who'd find it awkward?”
He pressed his lips together.
I didn't wait for his answer. I picked up my phone and bought a ticket.
Six-forty tomorrow morning, leaving with the Cloudcrest Abbey restoration team.
Percy saw the order, and his face went fully dark.
“You really have to go?”
“I'm not asking for your permission.”
That night, I wiped down the restoration blades one by one, then put my ID, my bank card, and my personal savings records into the same file envelope.
A message came from Jeremy.
【Don't prove anything to anyone. Tomorrow, you only need to prove it to the wall.】
