A message preview appeared.
From Linda Parker.
My best friend.
The woman who had been in my life for thirty years.
At first I smiled automatically. Linda and I had known each other since our early twenties, back when we were both young, reckless, and still figuring out what kind of lives we wanted to build. She had stood beside me at my wedding, helped me decorate my first apartment, and held my hand in the hospital waiting room when my first child was born.
But the preview message made the smile disappear from my face.
“Did she suspect anything last night?”