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

I pushed the bill of sale across the table, my signature already written at the bottom. She signed her name, Sarah Miller, in a round, youthful script, and took her copy of the paper.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes shining. “I will take good care of it.”

“Keep the gears greased,” I said. “It will outlast both of us.”

I took the envelope continue reading …