Redstone Construction CEO Learns About Blue Envelope in Hospital Recovery Room
I took a stack of sweaters from the dresser drawers and began laying them into the larger box. They were expensive wool, smelling faintly of the lavender sachets she used to buy at the market on Saturdays.
We worked for nearly an hour in silence, the only sound the rustle of tissue paper and the heavy thud of clothes settling into the cardboard. We did not talk about Nicole, or the trial, or the way the kitchen had felt when we first moved into the house fifteen years ago.
“Is that everything?” Mia asked, standing in the middle of the empty closet.
“The bathroom,” I said. “Her vanity.”
The bathroom was larger than it needed to be, with a deep tub and a marble counter that ran the length of the wall. On the counter sat three blue bottles of expensive skin cream, their labels written in French, and a small silver dish where she used to leave her rings.
I picked up the silver dish and set it in the box. The bottom of the dish was scratched, the metal showing the yellow tint of the brass underneath the silver plate.
