Martha picked up the fountain pen and looked at the signature line on the third page.

“Is this because you feel sorry for us sleeping in that cold sedan?” Martha asked, her hand hovering motionless over the page.

“Look at the drawing of that arch on page four,” Nathaniel said.

“I don’t hire master finish contractors out of pity, Martha.

I hire them because their lines are plumb and their joints hold tight.”

Martha looked at the blueprint page attached to the back of the contract, where her own signature from eighteen months earlier sat beside Caroline’s official foundation stamp.

She leaned over the table and signed her name on the main contract line in solid black ink.