It doesn’t stop me taking the computer home or turning it on, though.
It’s password-protected but darcy&meaghan lets me in. Your email app uploads a huge number of new messages. A few personal ones from people I haven’t let know about your condition. Several bills.
Dealing with that takes priority, and then I skim over your mailbox folders. They don’t reveal anything remarkable. Nothing named Stephanie, for instance.
I’m unhinging, I know. Why have I read so much into a note from our daughter’s best friend? You might have found it in one of Meaghan’s books and shoved it in your desk without thought, maybe without even looking at it. Maybe I’m on this quest so I don’t have to face losing you.
It is what it is, I decide. I eventually go through the rest of your new mail and jump to concl
