Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

quickly into the fiber of the page.

Arthur took the pen from my hand, his fingers brushing mine for a brief second as he signed his own name below mine.

“Evelyn,” he said, looking at me through his wire-rimmed glasses.

I paused before answering, smoothing my linen apron out of habit. “Yes, Arthur?”

“I did not do this only for the bakery,” he said.

The desk continue reading …