Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
The second officer pulled her hands behind her back.
The metallic click of handcuffs closing around my wife’s wrists under the bright hallway lights.
The morning sun did not do any favors for the pale green paint on the precinct walls.
Mia sat on the other side of the metal table, her heavy winter coat still zipped to her chin despite the radiator hissing in the corner of the small room.
She held a single white tissue in both hands, rolling the paper into a tight, gray cylinder between her thumbs.
I rubbed my left wrist where my watch usually sat when the silence got too heavy.
“They are bringing the files up from the records room now,” I said.
Mia did not look up, but she adjusted her glasses by the bridge, a quick, nervous motion she had repeated every three minutes since we arrived.
“How long have you known about the other man in Phoenix?” she asked.
Her voice was thin, lacking the sharp, defensive edge she had used on the college campus when she told me I was losing my mind.
