A Tin of Old Photographs Revealed Why a Best Friend Kept Helping

client ledger, his tie perfectly straight and smooth against his light blue shirt.

I closed the door behind me, the latch clicking into place. “We need to talk about my payroll, Harold.”

Harold looked up, his deep, slow voice instantly dropping the room’s temperature. “Sit down, Alison. You look tired.”

“I am not tired,” I said, standing by the edge of continue reading …