I’ll admit, I was in total shock. How was I supposed to sleep that night? I sat by my kitchen window and stared at Archie’s house for hours. His lights were on, too. I wrote a text message to him that said, I’m so sorry. If I can do anything, please tell me. And then I deleted it. If he wasn’t texting me, why should I be texting him? I was so confused about Sharon’s death.

Sharon was dead, but Hunter and Tyler were saved. And did my bees in the pink hive do it? Had they heard everyone’s cries for help to the point that they just decided to intervene? Had anyone seen what happened? What was Sharon doing in my yard in the first place? Why wasn’t anyone asking that? Was she taunting the bees? Trying to harm them?

I made a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it would help me sleep. I went to bed, but sleep was not mine to be had that night. I caught twenty minutes here and there, but something would wake me up again. A noise. A foghorn. The screech of an owl. The howls of coyotes as the Lowcountry crept toward dawn. Finally, I heard the newspaper brush my driveway and I went outside to pick it up.

There was no sign of life at Archie’s house. It was seven thirty. I assumed Archie would be taking the day off to arrange Sharon’s funeral, to write an obituary, to order flowers, and to do all the things that are necessary when there’s a death. I went back inside and dropped the paper on the kitchen table. I was exhausted.

My phone rang. It was Darlene.

“Bad news travels fast, doesn’t it?” I said. “Who did you hear it from?”

“It came over the wire from the call center. Are you all right?”

“I don’t even know the answer to that. But I do know that I need a lawyer.”

“That’s why I’m calling. Mark is free this morning, which is so weird because he hasn’t had a free morning in months! But he wanted to know if you’d like him to come over and talk to you.”

“Oh! Yes! Please! You have no idea how frightened I am by all of this! I’m supposed to go to Publix this morning, but I think I’m not going in. I’ll call them. Thank you, Darlene! And tell Mark I said thank you, too!”

I dressed quickly and tidied up the house. And I put up a large pot of coffee. The day would be fueled by caffeine. Then I called Publix.

“Is Andrea in?” I asked.

“Not until ten,” came the answer.

“Well, it’s Holly Jensen. I can’t come in this morning. We’ve had a tragedy and I have to be home.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! What happened?”