Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

is going to take the greenhouse anyway,” Donald said, his short sentences hitting me like small stones. “If they find you incompetent on Friday, we lose the lease. We lose the equity. We lose everything.”

“I am not incompetent, Donald,” I said, standing up and reaching for the folded clinic paper in my apron pocket. “Robert is the one who redirected continue reading …