Claire looked away toward the pasture. “Depends what you call sleep.”
Ruth Ann followed her gaze to the horse lot. Daisy, the old bay mare Ben had loved, flicked her tail at flies near the barn.
“You going into town today?” Ruth Ann asked.
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Claire looked away toward the pasture. “Depends what you call sleep.”
Ruth Ann followed her gaze to the horse lot. Daisy, the old bay mare Ben had loved, flicked her tail at flies near the barn.
“You going into town today?” Ruth Ann asked.
I stood in the marble corridor near the private dining room at the Capital Grille in Charlotte. I arrived twelve minutes late for my…