I walk into my office, shut the door, and drop into my chair at my desk.
The room is silent . . . and empty.
Through my windows I can see bustling New York below as the city prepares for the day. Everything down there seems so normal . . . so in order.
My temper is simmering like a volcano and dangerously close to exploding.
I don’t know if I’m going to smash something or burst into tears.
Either way, I feel completely unstable.
With my elbows on the desk, I drop my head into my hands; my breath quivers on the intake as I try to calm myself down.
She told me she was going out with Molly and Aaron last night. I go over the conversation we had when she got home.
“How were your friends?” I asked.
“Great . . . it was good to see them,” she replied.
She lied.
I was at home missing he
