Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

tiny ink pools. Your natural signature is fluid, Clara, even when you are tired. Someone drew this, they did not write it.”

Raymond took out his linen handkerchief and began polishing his wire-rimmed glasses, his brow furrowing.

“We need more than an opinion to stop a commercial listing, Martha,” Raymond said, his voice a dry, gravelly baritone.