Allie’s phone chimed to signal a text message. She opened her eyes long enough to squint at the blinding sun glaring at her through the window. She put a hand to her brow as if in salute to hangovers then reached for the phone. With a groan and raised eyebrows, she read the text message from Justin’s mother.
By the end, Allie could practically see the woman’s red face. When you come to your senses—assuming you have any—you’ll want Justin back. So I’m warning you now: it’ll happen over my dead body, you hateful botch.
When you come to your senses—assuming you have any—you’ll want Justin back. So I’m warning you now: it’ll happen over my dead body, you hateful botch.Hateful botch? That’s easy for you to thumb type. She set down the phone and muttered, “‘When I come to my senses…’” Allie bl
