I was sanding a cabinet in the garage.
Ellen called me inside.
Dustin stood on the porch.
For one second, every old instinct returned.
My shoulders tightened.
My hands went still.
Then I noticed his posture.
No gym clothes.
No swagger.
He wore jeans and a plain gray jacket.
He stood several feet back from the door.
“I know she asked me not to contact her.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m not asking to see Marcy.”
That mattered.
“What do you want?”
He held out an envelope.
“I found something that belongs to her.”
I did not take it immediately.
“What?”
“The original folder.”
My breath caught.
He continued.
“Frank had it in a file box at the warehouse.”
“How did you get it?”
“He gave me permission to take my things when I stopped working for him.”
“You stopped?”
Dustin nodded.
“I should have done it years ago.”
