“I’m fine,” I said. “Do you know if the bananas are organic?”
On Saturday, Miles called.
I almost didn’t answer. I assumed it would be more of the same.
But Miles Ashford’s voice was quiet. Hesitant. A man who doesn’t call people very often.
“Mrs. Vance. This is Miles. Blythe’s father. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“It’s all right.”
“I won’t keep you long. I just—I have a strange question, and I need an honest answer. Is there some kind of problem with the paperwork?”
“What paperwork?”
He paused.
“For
