Six Sisters and the Blue Ledger on Oak Street

me with the salon’s weekly deposits, looked up from his terminal behind the counter.

“Morning, Miss Clara,” he said, leaning over the marble barrier. “What can we do for you today?”

I slid the crumpled notice across the counter, keeping my hand flat over it to hide the red ink from the other customers.

“There seems to be an error on our main business continue reading …