Michael Walked Out of His Office the Day Four-Year-Old Noah Called About a Broken Arm
On the other side of the booth, Lena kept nervously spinning the silver wedding band on her middle finger.
She’d insisted on a neutral public spot for lunch.
Travis sat beside her, slouched back against the red vinyl cushion.
He tossed a heavy key ring onto the Formica tabletop.
Michael stared at the key ring.
The brass deadbolt key was for Lena’s front door.
He’d paid for that lock himself three years ago.
How had Travis gotten hold of Lena’s house keys?
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