Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

chime. I walked to the corner of the parlor where the small landscape of the salt marsh hung. The plaster wall felt cool against my palms as I carefully lifted the wooden frame off its brass hook and set it on the armchair.

Behind the painting, the door of the wall safe was a dark square of cold iron. My fingers were cold, but they continue reading …