“Unlocking Secrets: What Lies Within Carrie Mac’s Mysterious Three Envelopes?”
“No thanks.”
“Have a cookie,” I say. “After all of this, Dale. Come on. Have a cookie.”
He takes one, but he doesn’t eat it. He folds it into a paper towel and tucks it into his lunch bag, beside the container of leftover spaghetti with marinara sauce, labeled in black marker on a piece of washi tape illustrated with a convoy of cute little cartoon ambulances.
There’s Stephanie and her family leaving the hospital; her husband holding her arm, the brother, the two sons, the daughter-in-law with children. They cluster between a minivan and a shiny, yellow sports car. The husband sees me watching.
