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

in my car before the bank opened this morning, watching the rain run down the windshield. I had no tears left for this room, only the stark reality of the signatures on the page.

Clara looked down at the paper. “If I sign this, I have nothing, I have forty-two thousand dollars in debt and no income.”

“You have your freedom,” I said. “The bank president continue reading …