Several members clucked their tongues, others murmured doubtfully, but Sophie pressed on. “Fortunately, we have permission to continue using this space indefinitely.” Her voice cracked a little, and she knew it was because she was thinking of Reese. It seemed she was always thinking of him. “If any of you would be interested in taking over my role, please let me know at next week’s meeting. I’ll be happy to make some notes for you and answer any questions you may have.”

The women blinked back at her, silent, and the mood turned unnaturally somber.

“Well then,” Sophie said, “that concludes tonight’s meeting. I look forward to seeing you all next week.”

The women said their goodbyes in hushed tones and filed out of the shop, one by one. Sophie spotted Sarah speaking with Violet at the back of the room and went to join them. Sophie loved that the Debutante Underground had brought the pair together—especially since they seemed to need each other. They looked up as she approached, and both smiled wanly.

“I confess your announcement surprised me,” Sarah said. “I can’t imagine anyone leading our meetings besides you.”

“Nor can I,” Violet chimed in, absently rubbing her swollen belly. “All is well with you, I hope?”

“Yes,” Sophie said firmly. She might have elaborated if she wasn’t so choked up. Instead, she turned to Sarah. “We were worried when you didn’t show last week.”

“Oh, my sister was busy and couldn’t stay with Rose and Julia,” Sarah explained.

“That’s too bad,” Sophie said. “But I’m relieved that the girls weren’t ill.”

“Physically, they’re healthy as can be,” Sarah said, her eyes softening at the thought of them. “But Rose wakes throughout the night. She’s been asking for her papa.” She swallowed. “Sometimes I forget that the girls miss William just as much as I do.”

Wrapping an arm around the widow, Sophie said, “He must have been a wonderful father.”

Sarah sniffled. “The best. It breaks my heart to think that they might not remember him when they grow up, so I try to remind them of the good times—how he’d swing them high into the air, tell them funny bedtime stories, and even brush their hair. But the more we talk about him, the more my chest aches.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sophie said, feeling guilty for being wrapped up in her own sadness while Sarah suffered the grief of losing her husband and best friend.

“The week wasn’t all bad, however,” Sarah said. “William’s friend from the army—his commanding officer, actually—came by to visit.”

Sophie’s belly flopped like a fish stranded on the shore, but she managed to ask, “He did?”