The Flour Girl
And I have been a little more humble ever since about my ability to tell, in advance, whether the large thing bearing down on me is a disaster or a gift.
Chapter 19 — Oh Dear
Jacqueline stepped into the guest room, and she saw it.
She saw the whole of it.
The lifted mattress.
The neat lines of coded bags laid out across the rug.
The open suitcase.
The notebook.