A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

brown, and our daughters, Mia and Chloe, have my exact shade.

I held the coat still, my thumb hovering just above the strand.

“Did you meet with the marketing team today?” I asked.

“Just the usual regional managers,” Alan said, kicking off his leather loafers. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I said, gently pulling the blonde hair from the wool.

I looped continue reading …