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

miscounted in the dark, Martha,” she said, her voice dropping into one of her theatrical pauses. “We both know your eyes are not what they used to be.”

“I counted it three times,” I said.

Clara shrugged and turned back to the dough, her shoulders rigid as she worked.

“It is a simple counting error, nothing more,” she said. “We have too much work today continue reading …