Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

the note on the commercial gallery space,” Julian said, his voice rising in pitch. “It is eighty-four thousand dollars, Clara.”

It was the first time in his thirty-six years he had called me by my first name.

I reached into my handbag, pulled out the copy of the forged listing agreement, and laid it beside his old high school report cards from Oak Creek continue reading …