Six Sisters and the Blue Ledger on Oak Street

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I kept the velvet box in my hand, feeling the soft pile of the fabric against my palm.

“I should get back to the salon,” I said, standing up from the armchair. “The three o’clock appointment is a double perm.”

“Don’t work too hard, Clara,” Beatrice said, her eyes following me to the door.

I drove home at four, the sky turning a dull, bruised purple as continue reading …