Three Decades of Pretending Come to an End in a Military Holding Cell
“I just need you to co-sign the vendor agreement,” Glenn said.
“Since your name’s technically still on the deed.”
I got up from the sofa and picked up the blue folder.
I took the open bottle of beer off the coaster.
“Come on, Sarah,” Glenn said from his armchair.
“It’s just one quick signature.
We’re a team.”
I walked past him into the kitchen.