“Seems excessive.”
She turned toward him.
“Then perhaps you should have thought about that before emptying your wife’s closet.”
He looked away.
Frank opened the second bag.
Inside were the clothes Tara had returned.
My striped maternity shirt.
Black leggings.
The hospital robe I’d purchased for delivery.
My other work uniforms.
Several dresses and blouses.
And at the very bottom, wrapped in tissue paper, was my sage-green maternity dress.
I picked it up with trembling hands.
The tag was still attached.
The little fabric belt was exactly where I’d left
