Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
She grabbed her backpack from the floor, threw her coat over her arm, and walked out into the cold morning air without looking back.
I sat in my truck in the university parking lot for twenty minutes, watching the exhaust from the other cars rise in white plumes against the gray brick of the campus buildings.
By the time I returned to Cherry Creek, the sun had been down for hours, and the streetlights cast long, amber shadows across the snow on our front lawn. The house was completely dark except for a single lamp glowing in the upstairs hallway.
I walked up the porch steps, my hand sliding into my pocket for my brass house key. The lock turned smoothly, but when I pushed the door open, the quiet inside felt different, heavier than before.
I walked up the stairs to the master bedroom, my boots making no sound on the thick carpet. When I reached for the brass handle of the bedroom door, the lever would not budge.
I knocked twice, the sound dull against the solid wood.
“Nicole,” I said.
