She hung up, wrapped the lute in a towel, and stepped out the back door just as the gray-coated men knocked again—this time with a key of their own.
The trouble began with a small blue notebook. anissa kate colette
Let them come , she thought. I’ve restored harder things than this. She hung up, wrapped the lute in a
“I thought it was a folk tune,” she said. She hung up
Three hours later, two men in matching gray coats knocked on her temporary studio door. They didn't identify themselves. They asked for the key , which Anissa did not have, and the register , which she hadn't realized she’d found.