I stepped into the living room, the light from sunrise filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, dousing everything in colors. Midnight's skyscraper lights still flickered on and would soon go dim.
It's been a long night.
I closed my eyes. I could still smell her; every inch of my personal space has been tainted. I can't go a day without occasionally taking a whiff of the air like a dog.
I walked to the counter where the stools were lined. I caught one out of place and gave a gentle push until it was in perfect line.
I dropped my leather briefcase, opened it, pulled out my iPad, and set it in place.
I took off my black gloves as the camera feed of Catherine's room came up. She's still fast asleep. However, somewhere at night, she had woken up to change into her nightwear to get a comfortable rest, and she was hugging that bunny teddy.
