Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

losing what little color it had, until her cheeks were as white as the flour on her apron.

Without another word, she pressed the button to end the call and set the phone face down on the counter.

“Who was that, Clara?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

“Nobody,” Clara said, her short sentence landing hard in the quiet room.

She did not pick up her spoon,continue reading …