I spun the phone around in my hands over and over again, my stomach turning over right along with it. The black display reflected a distorted image of my face, staring back at me.
My lips tugged into a frown as I stared at a woman I barely recognized. It hadn’t been that long since I’d married Miles Hawthorne in what could have been called the stupidest mistake of my life.
And now I was eyebrows deep in a murder investigation while trying to hold the family together.
Who was I anymore?
The scream of the tea kettle pulled me away from the introspection that threatened to destroy me.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and grabbed the kettle from the stove, pouring the steaming water into the mug.
I grabbed the teabag’s tag before it got sucked into the vortex of swirling water. I couldn’t deny the parallels between the tag nearly disappearing into the tea and my experience with the Hawthornes.
Just like that tag, I’d practically been swallowed whole by Hurricane Hawthorne, and there was no end in sight.
Was there anyone pulling me back from the edge like I’d just done with the little paper pull?
