A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

and your grocery bills,” he said, slamming his hand down on the edge of the table.

The coffee in his mug sloshed over the rim, dark brown liquid pooling on his white expense report and smudging the blue ink of his signature. He stared at the wet stain, his breathing heavy and uneven.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, turning toward the hallway without clearing continue reading …