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Hasty Decisions

Bethany

"Bethany? That you?" Martha's voice was comforting in ways that didn't make sense, but Bethany was willing to take anything she could get.

"Yeah," she called out to the Bryants’ cook and maid. "I just came by to talk with Kent for a little while."

"He's out back, working on his golf swing. Take the stairs beside the pool down to the grass, and you'll see him." The older woman laughed as she stuck her head out of the kitchen. "Or just follow the sound of cursing. His swing is off today, and he's not too happy about it."

"Thanks." Bethany glanced over toward Martha and paused as she stepped out of the kitchen.

"What's the matter? You look like someone died." She ran her hands over Bethany's shoulders, squeezing softly. "You okay?"

"No." Bethany glanced down. "I quit today."

"Quit what?" The look of shock on Martha's face didn't help the sickness playing around in the pit of Bethany's stomach.

"The firm. I can't do it anymore." She shrugged. "Let me go talk to Kent, and we'll cat
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