Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

fixed on the cursive letters he had penned. “It is an old pile of brick and slate.”

“It is my life,” I said.

“If the bank takes the gallery, Nicole and I will lose everything,” he said, looking up at me with a desperate, searching expression. “We will have to start over from nothing.”

“Then you will start over,” I said.

“You have the continue reading …