Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

fell against her collarbone, silent now that her hands were occupied with the ledger.

“Donald told me about the clinic,” Sarah said, not looking up from the page. “He said you let Chloe go.”

“Well now, there was no need to ruin a thirty-year career before it started,” I said. “She will not be coming back to Oak Creek.”

“Robert will not continue reading …