Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

the heavy oak door slightly ajar.

The space felt instantly smaller without his presence.

“Mother, please,” Julian said, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. “The developer, Vance Boyd, is calling my office every two hours.”

“I have nothing to say to Mr. Boyd,” I said.

“If we do not close on this sale, the bank will call continue reading …