A lot of it.
Then Margaret handed him two more things—a silver key and a folded piece of paper.
Emily whispered, “That’s Grandma. Why is she giving him our house key?”
My stomach tightened.
Three months earlier, my husband, Daniel, had convinced me to give Margaret a spare key “for emergencies.”
Only Margaret, Daniel, and I knew the alarm code.
The stranger slipped the key into his jacket.
Margaret glanced around nervously.
“Tomorrow morning. They’ll both be gone by eight. The girl has school, and Laura works downtown.”
My breath caught.
The man asked, “And your son?”
“He leaves at six-thirty. You’ll have at least two hours.”
Emily’s face turned white.
I gently covered her mouth before she could gasp.
Then Margaret said the sentence that changed everything.
“Take the documents from the office. The blue folder, the passports, and the jewelry box upstairs. Don’t touch anything else. It has to look like a normal burglary.”
The man nodded.
Margaret continued.
