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

He did not look up when I sat down, but his hand moved to cover the sparse notes he had already made.

“The math is sloppy, Martha,” Arthur said, his voice carrying the dry rasp of a lifelong smoker. “But sloppy is not illegal until we see the foundation.”

“I need to know if the bank can legally lock me out,” I said.

He tapped his pencil continue reading …