Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

with him.”

“Chloe is there?” I asked.

Donald nodded, his mouth set in a thin line. “She brought a box of lemon squares. Said she wanted to see how her favorite aunt was feeling.”

“Well now, let us go see her,” I said.

I walked past him to the passenger side of the truck, my boots steady on the gravel, and climbed inside.

By ten the next morning, the long continue reading …