Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

” I said, though my fingers were cold as they touched the edge of the paper.

The parlor was dark by six o’clock, the only light coming from the brass lamp on the side table.

Julian was standing near the fireplace, checking the window locks, when I walked in holding the photocopied document.

“Julian,” I said, holding the paper out between us.

He turned continue reading …