An Unopened Medical File From a Colorado Lake House Clinic

was organizing the ceramic mugs by the sink, her pale linen skirt rustling with every small step. She kept her back to me, her shoulders set in a straight line that usually meant she was preparing to tell someone what to do.

“The coffee is fresh,” she said, her high, fluttery voice already moving too fast. “You should take a cup out to your father before continue reading …