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Weekly Contest #364
Lucy Minerva leaned forward to slide the photograph back across her desk, toward the man she would not be accepting as a client. As she did so, her chair wobbled and creaked, and Lucy knew she would need to replace it soon, but she wouldn’t be doing it with this man’s money. “Sorry, Mr. Dowling, I don’t think you’re being straight with me, and I don’t work like that. I could take your money, but I like to sleep at night.” “I swear on my mother’s grave I am telling you the truth,” the man said. “I swear on the lives of my children.” Lucy felt...
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