Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
I spent the night on the couch in the study, watching the blue light of the digital clock on the desk change every sixty seconds. At nine o’clock the next morning, I called Mia three times before she finally answered.
We met at eleven in a small coffee shop three blocks from the University of Colorado campus, where the tables were crowded with students typing on laptops. Mia was already sitting in a corner booth, her heavy winter coat draped over the back of her chair.
“You look tired, Dad,” she said, not looking up from her screen as I sat down opposite her.
“I have been sleeping poorly,” I said.
She adjusted her glasses by the bridge, sliding them up her nose with a quick, defensive flick of her finger. “Mom called me last night. She was crying so hard I could barely understand her.”
“There are some things about our finances we need to discuss, Mia.” I took a white envelope from my coat pocket and slid it across the wooden table, stopping it an inch from her coffee cup. Inside were the printed bank statements showing the six structured withdrawals of nine thousand five hundred dollars each.
