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Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

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remained exactly the same. I held the warm ceramic mug in both hands, letting the steam rise against my face.

For the first time in three months, I did not look at the phone on the wall. I did not search the floor for white envelopes, and I did not check the lock on the back door three times before starting the dough.

The biscuits would take fourteen continue reading …

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