“Garage sale. You owe me six bucks.”
My client stared at me, eyes bugged out like a goldfish. Every feature on her face was gaunt with stress—she was the human embodiment of that one Edvard Munch painting. “And you’re sure it’s the same one” She pressed, her goldfish eyes boring into the back of my head. “He won’t be able to tell the difference?”
“Same model number and everything. I even scuffed...