Clara found a forged receipt for forty thousand dollars

order,” I said.

The receptionist’s desk partition slid open with a sharp rattle, and a woman with a high ponytail looked out. “Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance, the mediator is ready for you in Room Three.”

We stood up in unison, the vinyl chairs releasing us with a sticky pop. I felt the weight of the silver hairpin in my hair, holding my silver continue reading …