Chapter 7A week later at the Sewing Room, Emma sits in a folding chair near the back, her finished quilt top and the attic quilt folded neatly in a canvas bag on her lap. She’s chosen a seat in the back row in case she decides to leave the meeting before it’s over. This morning she stood in the middle of her study — which she has started thinking of as her studio after reading all the quilting magazines Owen picked up for her — holding up her freshly-minted four-patch quilt top to an imaginary audience, but now she’s not sure she wants to show it off. For one thing, she had no idea there would be so many people here. Taking a rough head count, she’d estimate at least sixty women (and several men) have crowded into the Sewing Room’s meeting space. She’d thought there might be ten, twenty to
