PART 1
That morning was completely ordinary.
I want that on the page first, because I have gone over it about four hundred times looking for the thing I missed, and there is nothing in it.
Emeric kissed me at the door at twenty to eight.
He picked up his laptop bag off the second stair, the way he always does. He said something about the bins.
And he went — exactly the way that man has gone out of that door every weekday morning for eleven years.
About ten minutes later I saw his medication sitting on the counter beside the coffee machine.
Little white bottle. Right where it always is, next to the machine, where it has been since 2019.
His office is on my way, more or less, so I decided to drop it in. I stopped and got him the coffee he likes, the one with the stupid name, because I thought it would be a nice thing.
