Six Vintage Dresses Left in a Cedar Trunk on Oak Street

sat on our mother’s velvet sofa, tapping her fingernails against her phone screen.

Beatrice stood by the cold fireplace, her coat still buttoned to her throat, adjusting her glasses by the bridge.

I set the glossy blue brochure for Oakhaven Holdings on the coffee table between them.

“I saw this in your office, Clara,” I said, smoothing my skirt down with continue reading …