The Chair He Bought, The Dog They Tried to Take, and the Choice

The estate sale manager—her name was Denise—locked the cash box and sighed like she’d been holding her breath all day.

“Well,” she said, rubbing her forehead, “that was… something.”

My house looked like it had survived a storm. Drawers half-open. Tables bare. Dust in the air where picture frames used to be.

Barnaby was still in the leather chair, his continue reading …