Melissa inhaled sharply. “I’ll bring two wooden ‘For Sale’ signs tomorrow morning.”
“Why two?”
Melissa purred, “Because I have a distinct feeling something violent is going to happen to the first one.”
By Monday morning, the first sign was gone.
Melissa had been right.
At 7:12 a.m., she texted me a photograph.
A neat white wooden post stood beside the driveway at my parents’ house, completely empty except for two splintered screws where the FOR SALE board had been ripped away.
Under the photograph, Melissa wrote:
Told you.
Thirty seconds later, she sent another picture.
A second sign had already been installed.
This one was metal.
It was anchored into the front lawn with two thick steel stakes and carried a red strip beneath the listing information.
PRIVATE PROPERTY — DO NOT REMOVE SIGNAGE
I stared at my phone while Clare sat across from me at the kitchen island, both hands wrapped around a mug of tea.
