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

last booth near the kitchen doors.

She had a warm cup of black coffee costing two dollars sitting in front of her.

“Thank you for meeting me, Sarah,” I said, sitting down across from her.

“I was surprised you called, Martha,” she said, her hands wrapped around the warm mug. “Is everything alright with the shop?”

“The bank locked the doors yesterday,” I continue reading …