Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

coffee that cost two dollars and fifty cents sat cold near his elbow, the cardboard sleeve sliding down.

“The main commercial account balances, Evelyn,” Arthur said, cleaning his wire-rimmed glasses with a small blue cloth. “But the reserve fund is another matter.”

I leaned closer to the lined pages, tracing the faded blue ink entries. “Beatrice always continue reading …