Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

Eighty thousand dollars.”

“We agreed to wait for the test results from Dr. Sullivan,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “We agreed we had another week before the developer’s deadline.”

“I cannot do this anymore, Martha,” Donald said.

He took his hands out of his pockets and held them out, palms up, as if he were showing me how empty they were.

“The board continue reading …