Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
I threw the card into the bin.
The drawer of the desk was filled with small things: gold paperclips, a leather-bound address book with half the pages torn out, and three keys on a brass ring that I did not recognize. I set the keys aside and swept the rest into the bottom of the first box.
From the hallway, I could hear the sound of hangers sliding along the wooden rod in the master bedroom, a dry, metallic rasp that seemed to fill the empty house.
I walked up the stairs to join her. The bedroom door was open, and the light from the closet showed Mia standing on a small wooden stool, reaching for the top shelf.
“There are some leather cases up here,” she said, without turning around. “They look like old jewelry boxes.”
“Leave them,” I said. “Those belonged to her grandmother. Her attorney will have to request them.”
“What about the shoes?” she asked, pointing to the neat rows of leather heels along the floor.
“Pack them,” I said. “All of them.”
