Alec set another box on the floor.
They sorted the fabric scraps by color—blues, reds, yellows—the same as always.
Two weeks of work had vanished in one morning at the market plaza.
Now they had started over.
Abby sat across from him with a small pair of scissors, cutting neat squares from a scrap of fabric.
“Do you think that man is still looking for us?” she asked.
Alec didn’t look up from his sorting.
“Maybe.
That’s why we’re staying off the market for a while.”
“For how long?”
“Until he gives up.” Alec started stitching.
This time he didn’t use the little rose knot he had learned from his mother.
His stitches were still straight.
More than a month of practice had made them that way.
“We’ll find another place to sell if we have to.”
Abby nodded and kept cutting.
She trusted her brother.
Below them, they heard the sewing machine running steadily.
It ran for hours on most days.
Their mother only needed to hand-stitch delicate clothes.
“Alec?” Abby said.
“Don’t tell Mom about the man or the money.”
“I won’t.”
Their mother was worried enough.
She thought they were playing at the playground every morning.
They would keep it that way.
When they heard footsteps on the stairs, they shoved the fabric under the bed.
“You two!” their mother called up.
“Playing nicely?”
“Yes, Mom!” they said together.
Alec looked at his sister and pressed a finger to his lips.
Abby giggled behind her hand.
***
Sarah held up the coat near the window and could still see the seam clearly.
She then turned it toward the light and drew it closer to her face.
There.
A loose thread, right where the sleeve met the shoulder.
She had already missed it twice.
Her eyes were getting worse in the afternoons when the light went flat and gray.
She then started threading the needle through muscle memory.
Her fingers still knew how to stitch even when her eyes didn’t.
‘It’s getting faster,’ she thought.
Dr.
Reyes’s warning rang in her mind.
She pushed the thought down and kept working.
The doorbell jingled as the door opened.
Sarah instinctively lowered the coat and stood to meet the customer.
George also came out from behind the counter.
A man came to the counter and glanced around.
“I’m looking for the owner,” the man said.
“That’s me,” George replied.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“My employer needs a custom suit made.
Hand-tailored, for an important event.
Our company supports small businesses by purchasing their goods and services.
He chose yours this time.”
He then gestured to his two companions who were carrying two bolts.
They placed them on the counter with a thud.
“We’ll provide the bolts.
You only need to do the work,” the man added.
Sarah glanced over the counter.
She saw the bolts.
Even half-blind, she could tell the bolts were the finest cloth.
She knew because she grew up wearing clothes made from this very material.
She could tell the fake ones from the real ones.
Then the man placed a small bag on the counter.
George went very quiet when he saw what was inside.
Sarah tried to peek, but the bolts blocked the view.
“Sir, this is a lot of money,” George eventually said.
“Consider it a deposit.
Half of the original price,” the man went on.
“My boss only wants to ensure that the person who’s going to make the suit will do the measurements personally.”
The man paused, his eyes fixed on George.
“I don’t mean to offend, but sir, are you up to this job?”
George was already in his seventies.
His eyes weren’t what they used to be.
He glanced at Sarah.
She lowered her eyes to her hands.
Her first thought was to say no.
Rich clients were dangerous.
She knew that better than anyone.
“My boss is willing to add a hefty tip.
Half a million if he’s satisfied,” the man added.
Sarah’s hands trembled.
If she could get that money, it could cover half her surgery cost.
She would have a better chance of having the operation, which meant she could have a better chance of seeing her children grow up.
She thought of the twins.
Their smiling faces.
The only light that kept her sane and the reason she lived.
A job like this could pay for the surgery.
Maybe all of it if she did her best to make the client satisfied with her work.
‘A rich man just wants a suit,’ she told herself.
‘That’s all.
Take the money.
Work and keep the veil on.
Stay and do the job, Emelia Larson.’
Sarah took a deep breath and composed herself.
“We’ll take the job, sir,” Sarah replied before moving behind the counter to pull out an order slip.
“Please fill in this order slip and let us know when it’s convenient for your boss to take his measurements.”
The man nodded and wrote the details on the order slip.
He gave her one last look and left with his people.
George let out a breath.
“You don’t have to force yourself, Miss Larson.
Accepting such a special order for a big client could put you in a difficult position.
It’s already enough that you’ve managed to keep this shop open.”
“I know, sir,” Sarah replied.
“But I also know turning down such an opportunity might come as an insult to that client.
You and I know how they could be petty if things don’t go their way.”
George nodded.
“If you didn’t agree, I was willing to turn the offer down using my old eyes, but I also know such an opportunity to earn won’t come twice.
I know you’re saving for something, Miss Larson.
I don’t know what it’s for, but I hope whatever we get from this job could at least lessen the burden on your shoulders.”
Sarah pressed her lips together.
She still hadn’t told her employer about her failing eyesight.
She felt bad for hiding it from him.
In the end, she decided to tell George the truth.
George listened to her without judging her.
“Please, Sir George.
I need this job,” she begged, her eyes filling.
“You should have told me much earlier, Miss Larson.
I won’t fire you or send you and your children away.
I only wish you’d told me so you wouldn’t have to deal with everything in the shop on your own.
I can still hire another helper to lessen your daily tasks.”
“But the orders…”
“The orders can wait, Miss Larson.
You’ve proven that your work is the best around.
Our clients could understand a little delay,” George insisted.
Sarah lowered her head and thanked her employer again and again.
She promised to tell him everything, including the state of her eyes, from now on.
After calming down, she sat back down at the machine and kept working.
Her hands shook.
She told herself it was only for the money—enough to restore her eyesight.
She had no idea she’d just agreed to dress the husband she left seven years ago.