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

my own future now.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I am planning to move to Oregon,” Beatrice said, her voice dropping even lower. “My daughter has room for me in Portland, and I need my share of the bakery equity to make the transition.”

The paper bag in my hand slipped, spilling three cups of white flour onto my leather shoes.

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