My Husband Demanded I Apologize to His Daughter, So I Walked Out of My Own House
The Extended Stay suite on East Colfax Avenue in Denver smelled of lemon cleaner and old carpet powder.
Rebecca Sloan set two paper cups of tea on the small laminate desk at seven in the morning.
“The emergency property preservation order was submitted to the court electronically twenty minutes ago,” Rebecca said.
She tapped her yellow legal pad with the blue cap of her pen before going on.
“The judge will sign it before noon.”
“And the front deadbolt?” I asked.
“We handle that under the non-possessory security plan,” Rebecca said.