My right hand came up and pressed flat on my breastbone, and I held my breath until the little cramp in my ribs eased.

“He sent another envelope to the apartment yesterday,” Sarah said, glancing toward the hallway.

“Did you open it up?” I asked.

“I stuck it in the bottom drawer of the sideboard with the three from last week,” she said.

“Don’t open any of them,” I said.

The public defender had left two messages on Sarah’s landline asking whether I’d sign a character statement for David’s upcoming bail hearing in Waukesha County.

He wanted me to say that David had been under severe work stress when he grabbed my shoulder in the checkout lane.