My Brother-In-Law Borrowed My Phone At Dinner

on the counter beside the gingerbread houses, little gold stickers sealing tissue paper around God knew what. Boots. A purse. Bracelets. Maybe presents. Maybe rewards for surviving theft.

“You told him my PIN,” I said.

She didn’t deny it.

Brandon did. Loudly. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

Carl said, “Mr. Bell, I haven’t asked you.”

I still couldn’t stop continue reading …