The Price of Betrayal and the Business of Reclaiming My Life
The main house was quiet, the curtains drawn against the grey morning light.
Daniel’s car was gone, likely because he was at the bank trying to resolve the frozen accounts.
I walked along the gravel path toward the stone guest house at the back of the property.
This was Richard’s domain, a place where he spent his afternoons pretending to read financial journals.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my ring of spare keys.
Years ago, Margaret had given me a set to water the plants while they were in Florida.
The brass key slid into the lock with a soft click.
I turned it, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped inside.
The room smelled of old paper, leather, and pipe tobacco.
A massive mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, clutter-free.
Behind it stood three steel filing cabinets.
I walked over to the first cabinet and tugged the handle.
Locked.
I tried the small brass keys on my ring, one by one.
The third key turned the cylinder, and the drawer rolled open with a heavy metallic sigh.