When she had something to say, she said it. “How much does it pay?” she asked. Betsy Wright seemed to approve of that response. “Five dollars and a red velvet cupcake.” “Three cupcakes,” Nahla haggled. “No dollars.” “Only have two cupcakes left. It’s been a busy day, and your father took one when he stopped by with the mail this morning.” “Two is fine.” Whatever the job was, Nahla would have done it for one. “My dad says your cupcakes are the best he’s ever eaten.” “Your daddy ain’t wrong,” Mrs. Wright said. “Come on in for a moment.”
