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

seven in the evening, the dining room table was set for two, though Beatrice had gone home hours ago. I set down a white ceramic plate holding a thick slice of warm vanilla sponge cake, the sweet scent of baking vanilla filling the small room. Clara sat opposite me, her fork resting against the rim of her plate.

“Beatrice told me about Oregon,” I said.continue reading …