Six Sisters and the Blue Ledger on Oak Street

of the salon on Oak Street.

“You need to ask Beatrice,” Harriet said, pulling her coat on. “And you need to ask her tonight.”

After Harriet left, I stood in the kitchen for a long time, looking out the window at the dark backyard.

At eight o’clock, the headlights of Beatrice’s car swept across the kitchen wall as she pulled into my driveway.

I walked out continue reading …