Six Sisters and the Blue Ledger on Oak Street

the full picture, dear,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Gene turned her head to look at me, her wire-rimmed glasses catching the harsh light of the monitor.

The green screen of the library computer reflecting in Gene’s glasses.

By six o’clock the next evening, I was standing in Diana’s dining room with a heavy wooden bowl of Caesar salad in my hands.continue reading …