Julia
At nearly nine in the morning, I stood near the tall windows in the living room, gazing out over the bay, holding tightly to the warm mug filled with coffee. In Chicago we had Lake Michigan, but most of the views I'd ever seen included the tall buildings of the city. Here from Van's home I was enthralled by the natural beauty. No other structure could be seen, making the snow-blanketed view unspoiled. Wearing the camisole and shorts I'd worn to bed and the long robe, I familiarized myself more and more with Van's home. I could now make my way around the first level without taking a wrong turn.
An hour later, fresh from my shower as I opened the door to Van's office, it was on purpose.
My eyes went immediately to the table behind his desk.
The picture I'd seen yesterday was gon
