I took a slow breath and forced my hand away from my wrist.
A delivery truck rumbled past, the driver giving me a quick, curious glance as he navigated the narrow street. I waited until the sound of his engine faded into the afternoon quiet before I shifted into drive and moved my car to the curb directly in front of the house.
The driveway was silent, the Volvo’s engine already cold.
The front door was unlocked, which was Gavin’s habit when he was home alone during the day.
I let myself in without making a sound, the heavy oak door sliding into the jamb with a soft click. The hallway smelled of cedar wood polish and something sweeter, like a citrus candle I did not recognize.
I walked down the carpeted hall toward the study at the back of the house, my boots sinking into the thick wool runner.
Gavin was sitting behind the mahogany desk, his laptop open. He did not look up immediately, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if he were deep in some complex calculation.
“The hospital was crowded,” I said, stepping into the room.
Gavin flinched, his shoulders tightening before he managed to smooth his expression into a welcoming smile. He reached down and adjusted the starched white cuffs of his shirt, pulling them out from the sleeves of his grey sweater.
“Audrey, you’re back early,” he said, his voice level and warm. “I thought your flight from O’Hare wasn’t until five.”
“I caught the morning connection,” I said. “I needed to get some things from the desk.”
I moved past him to the small filing cabinet in the corner where I kept my private business records. My fingers found the drawer handle, but my eyes stayed on his face.
“How is Brooke?” I asked.
“She is resting,” he said, his eyes dropping to his laptop screen for a fraction of a second before returning to mine. “The doctors want her to keep her blood pressure down. It is a delicate time for her.”
I pulled open the bottom drawer. The green hanging folders were slightly out of order, tilted to the left instead of the right.
