Brittle Nails and a Disputed Greenhouse in Autumn

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“They were logged from the greenhouse terminal at three in the morning on Tuesday,” Robert said. “You were the only one there.”

The air in the sunroom felt suddenly cold, as if the glass panes had developed a leak.

“I was in bed at three in the morning,” I said, but my mind raced back to Tuesday night, trying to remember if I had woken continue reading …