“That can’t be right,” I said automatically. “I’m always out on Wednesdays.”
She nodded slowly.
“I figured maybe a family member had a key.”
I tried to laugh it off.
“No… no one does.”
Eleanor studied my face for a moment, then gently touched my arm.
“I didn’t want to alarm you. But I thought you should know.”
I thanked her and walked the rest of the way down the hall with a strange heaviness in my chest.
Inside the apartment everything looked normal.
The same quiet living room. The same soft afternoon light falling across George’s armchair.
Continue on the next page:
