Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

come back either,” Sarah said.

“That is his choice,” I said.

I laid my hand on the back of her stool, my thumb resting near her shoulder.

“You are doing well with the numbers, Sarah,” I said.

“I want to learn the soil mixing next,” she said, her voice slowing down to its normal pace. “The real way, the way Grandpa did it.”

“We will start on Monday,” I said.continue reading …