Boston Real Estate, a Greenwich Mansion, and Five Attorneys
I spotted it when I drove by.” He slid the phone into his pocket.
“I’m already running it.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I do.” He picked up the folder I hadn’t touched.
“Call me when you’re finished being their daughter.”
He left.
The stairwell door clicked closed.
I stood at the kitchen sink and peeled the second clementine in one long strip.