Three Sisters Divided Over a Limestone Bakery Built in Nineteen Sixty-Eight

up, her eyes dropping to the folded white paper in my left hand.

“Where is Clara?” I asked, keeping my voice level.

“She went to the post office to buy stamps,” Beatrice whispered, her hand moving to her apron hem. She pulled the cotton fabric up and began polishing her thick glasses, her eyes squinting in the bright kitchen light.

“You continue reading …