I stood up slowly, holding onto the doorframe to steady myself as I walked down the short hallway.
Daniel was sitting at his oak desk, holding a small brass key. When he heard my footsteps, he quickly slid a thick stack of white documents under some sales brochures in the bottom drawer.
He closed the drawer and turned the key with a loud, deliberate click, then stood up and dropped the key into a blue ceramic mug on the top shelf of the bookcase.
“What are you doing?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“Just clearing my head, Helen,” he said, his voice regaining its smooth, defensive charm. “I have a lot of paperwork to organize before I can even think about changing the trip schedule.”
“Is that the travel insurance?” I asked, pointing toward the locked drawer.
“It is just company business,” he said, picking up his leather briefcase from the floor and sliding the glossy cruise brochure into the front pocket. “I need to keep these files secure. The girls do not need to be knocking things over when they start crawling.”
