Chapter 70 - No More Office Keys
Marco visited my Brooklyn apartment to return a spare key I'd once given the household office for emergencies. He held it in an envelope rather than reaching for the doorbell himself.
“I've also removed your address from the corporate security route list,” he said. “There's a record of the deletion and a confirmation from the vendor.”
I took the envelope. “Thank you.”
“I should have done it the day you moved out.”
“Yes.”
He glanced at the worn stair carpet. “You seem happy here.”
“Some days.”
The honesty seemed to please him more than a rehearsed answer.
At the doorway he hesitated. “The concierge that supplied your patient information is under formal review. I gave the hospital everything they requested.”
“Good. You should also tell them exactly who instructed you.”
“I have.”
May you like
After he left I tested the apartment door twice. It was a habit left over from the weeks after my divorce. Then I put the spare key in a drawer and went back to work.
Control was sometimes just knowing who could open your own front door.
