Died Alone, My Spirit Watches

e Cummi

s words, "Adrianne was pregnant," hung in the sterile air, poisoning it. Bradford lay sprawled on the cold floor, his hand still on his jaw, his e

flat, professional, but laced with a barely contained anger. "Exacerbated by the trauma of the

o my husband's. "Do you know what kind of robbery this was, Bradford? No ransoms. Only one ho

eyes. He sat up slowly, pushing himself against the wall, his gaze still avoi

our messes, protecting your image. She managed your foundation, cultivated your connections. Who would benefit

He saw it. He understood the intricate web of my life, the silent battles I fo

doubt, a momentary spark of his analytical mind, seemed to ig

pulative vulnerability. "It's too much. The police... the blood... I feel so faint. Take me away from here

. "Don't you see it, Bradford? She's playing you! Just like she

criminals negotiate with you? They let her go? And then disappear without a trace?

m. He was a crisis manager, after all. Logic. Strategy. He started

and flying to her forehead. "Oh, my head... everything is spinning. I think I'm

ttention snapped back to her, all suspicion replaced by immediate concern. He str

your eyes! She's bleeding you dry, emotionally and otherwise! Adrianne w

has been through enough. I will not have you disrespecting her, especially not now." He stood, slowly, painfully, his gaze returning to the floor

t on his face. "You truly are a fool, Bradford. A blind

to get her home," he stated, his voice firm, leaving n

cause, for now. "Fine," he finally said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Clear the sce

sed. He turned back, a slight frown on his face. "Ide

ess, Bradford. Someone needs to off

e finality, hit Bradford like a wave. He visibly recoiled, his face paling

wide. "Bradford, no! Don't look! It will only traumatiz

ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of deep conflict. He hated confrontation.

e began, his vo

tightening, her head pressing against his shoulder. Her eyes, however, met mine, my spect

all over again. She kne

ked at Flora, then at Arthur, then at the cover

isper, turning completely away from the gurney. "Get her moth

r word, he led her out of the morgue, leaving me, Adrianne, his wife, to be id

ief should have been. He was gone. He ha

his face. He then turned to the medical examiner. "He won'

re, his shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed on the empty doorway. He knew what kin

ertainty. Bradford Shannon had