Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

the pans, Clara,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.

She stopped her counting, her hand resting on the rim of a tin pan.

“Frank’s notice said we have until Monday,” Clara said, her eyes meeting mine. “We have to start clearing the inventory before the bank locks the doors.”

I sat down on the high stool near the flour bin, watching her.

“We are going continue reading …