Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
“We start the interior framing on Monday,” I said, standing beside her. “The drywall delivery is scheduled for seven.”
“It seems so small from up here,” she said. “Everything we spent the last five years building.”
“It is big enough,” I said.
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of white paper, her fingers catching on the edge of the envelope. She did not open it immediately, holding it against her ribs as if she were trying to keep the wind from snatching it away.
“What is that?” I asked.
“My new enrollment forms,” she said, unfolding the paper. “I went to the registrar’s office yesterday morning before the meeting with Vance.”
“You did not tell me you were changing your schedule,” I said.
“I am not just changing my schedule, Dad,” she said, her voice steadying as she looked at the print. “I am changing my major.”
The wind caught the corner of the paper, making it flutter with a sharp, snapping sound. I looked down at the bold letters at the top of the sheet, recognizing the seal of the university.
