Six Years After the Lake Trip, One Blue Envelope Upended Everything Clara Believed
“Leave it there on the counter,” I said.
“Let it ring.”
I stood in front of the hall mirror and smoothed the lapels of my dark gray wool suit jacket, the one I’d kept pressed in the back of the closet since Daniel’s memorial service.
The blue envelope lay on the wooden table next to Vance’s typed summary sheets and the photocopied ledgers.
I picked up the blue envelope and set it neatly in the bottom compartment of Daniel’s old leather briefcase.
The brown leather on the handle was scuffed and cracked by the seam, but the brass latches on top were clean.
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