Piper nodded solemnly. “Maintaining your privacy is important to me. You would have complete control over how much of your story is included, if any. The focus would be on Florence and Miriam, and the historical significance of the network. We don’t need to discuss how or where you found the information unless you choose to share that aspect.”
Kathleen looked at the document Piper had given her. The way they’d discovered the hidden room was as much a part of the story as the items themselves. “And if you did want to talk about the house, how could we stop my property from becoming a circus?”
Piper tilted her head to the side. “We could film historical reenactments elsewhere if needed, or focus on the documents and artifacts rather than the location. The goal isn’t to create a tourist destination, but to tell an important story that’s been forgotten.”
Kathleen was impressed by Piper’s thoughtfulness. Unlike the other reporters who had contacted her, this felt right. But she’d learned to be cautious about making quick decisions when emotions were involved.
“I’d want to talk to the Smithsonian before agreeing to anything,” she said slowly. “Dr. Sarah Mitchell has been helping with the authentication process. I’d need her input on how this might affect their research.”
“Of course,” Piper said immediately. “I’ve already contacted them about the documentary and they’ve shared some valuable information with me.”
Patrick’s hand briefly touched Kathleen’s shoulder. It was a gesture of support that reminded Kathleen that she didn’t have to make this decision alone.
“What would be your timeline?” she asked Piper.
“I’m flexible,” Piper said. “This is too important to rush. I’d rather take the time to do it right than hurry to meet an artificial deadline. If you decide to participate, we could work around your schedule and comfort level.”
Kathleen took a deep breath. “I need time to think about what we’ve discussed. And I definitely need to speak with Dr. Mitchell before making any decisions.”
“I completely understand,” Piper said, gathering her materials with obvious care. “Thank you for taking the time to listen to me. Whatever you decide, I’m grateful that Florence’s story is finally being recognized for the important history it represents.”
As Piper prepared to leave, she turned back with a final thought. “I should mention that I’m staying in town for a few days. I’d like to do some research at the local historical society, regardless of your decision. If you have any questions or want to discuss this further, I’ll be at the Lakeside Inn.”
After Piper drove away, Kathleen sat in thoughtful silence on the porch with Patrick. The garden work was forgotten for the moment as she processed what had just happened.
“She’s different from the others,” Patrick said finally, echoing her own thoughts.
“She is,” Kathleen agreed. “Piper’s more thoughtful and more respectful. And her personal connection to what we found sounds genuine.”
Patrick reached over and took her hand, his callused fingers warm and reassuring. “What are you thinking?”
Kathleen was quiet for a moment, staring out at the lake where the afternoon light was beginning to turn golden. “I’m thinking about Florence,” she told Patrick. “About what she would want. She documented everything so carefully. Maybe she’d want her stories to be shared, to inspire other people.”
“But only on your terms,” Patrick said firmly. “Only in a way that feels right to you.”
Kathleen squeezed his hand, grateful for his unwavering support. “I know. And I will talk to Dr. Mitchell first. But for the first time since the story became public, I feel like there’s a way to honor Florence’s legacy without losing control of it completely.”
As they sat together, Kathleen thought about Piper. Perhaps she’d offered Kathleen and Patrick exactly what they’d been looking for—a way to share this remarkable story while protecting the women involved. The decision still felt enormous, but for the first time, it also felt positive.
Chapter 29
Patrick sat in Kathleen’s office, carefully placing the last of Florence’s medical certificates in the archival box that the Smithsonian had provided. Tomorrow, these precious pieces of history would make their journey to Washington, D.C. with Chloe, where they would be preserved for future generations.
“I think that’s the last of the official documents,” he said, stretching his back after hours of hunching over the desk. “How are you coming along with the personal papers, Kathleen?”
Kathleen looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by Florence’s journals and correspondence. Her hair had escaped from its ponytail hours ago, and a smudge of dust decorated her cheek. She looked beautiful and completely absorbed in her work.
“Almost finished,” she replied, carefully placing a fragile letter in its protective sleeve. “Florence kept copies of everything—letters to suppliers, correspondence with the women she’d helped, even recipes for the tonics she made.”
Patrick smiled, watching her gentle handling of the documents. “What’s in that wooden box?” he asked, nodding toward a small cedar container that sat slightly apart from the other items.
Kathleen followed his gaze and frowned. “I’m not sure. I found it tucked behind Florence’s medical journals, but I haven’t opened it yet.” She pulled herself to her feet and picked it up.
It was about the size of a chocolate box and made from a wood that had maintained a rich color despite its age. Small brass hinges held the lid closed, and a tiny brass latch secured the front. Unlike the practical metal containers they’d found in the basement, this box had been made with care and attention.
“Should I?” Kathleen asked, her hand hovering over the latch.
Patrick moved closer and nodded.
