Natalie rubbed her temples. “I'm not sure. I've been feeling restless all morning. Something's bugging me, but I don't know what it is. That's why I can't seem to focus on my designs.”

“You're not sick, are you?” Sally asked in concern.

“I don't think so...”

The other woman glanced at her friend's stomach. “Maybe it's a symptom of pregnancy,” she speculated. “The baby's causing your hormones to go haywire, and that's why you're feeling off.”

Natalie smiled slightly, shaking her head. “I don't think that's it, either.”

She was eight weeks into her pregnancy, but it had yet to stir up any nausea or discomfort, much unlike the time she had been expecting the twins. That particular pregnancy had her throwing up all day, every day.

By comparison, this little bun in her oven was incredibly docile and had never caused her any problems.

“Well... Then I'm out of guesses,” Sally said, still wearing a concerned expression.

“It's probably nothing.” Natalie shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, though the knot in her stomach persisted. “Maybe I'm just tired because I didn't sleep well last night. I'll be fine tomorrow.”

Her friend nodded in understanding. “Rest early tonight, then,” she suggested.

“I will.” Natalie offered a small grin. “All right, let's head back—”

Her cell phone buzzed suddenly before she could finish her sentence. The screen flashed with the notification of a newly-received message from an unknown number.

she read the text: I got out. Just you wait, Natalie. I'm about to start my revenge,

by an emoji of

close enough to get a glimpse of the message, gasped. “Who would send

expression. The text says “I got out,” which means

of something happening to her daughter. With shaky fingers, she dialed Shane's number and waited anxiously for him to pick up

awake at the incoming call. Upon seeing

however, he answered it.

right to the

already know?

you ask that?” he asked with faux

feeling it's from Jacqueline. She said she got out and vowed revenge.

into a thin, tight line, Shane had no answer to

would be able to focus on her competition this way. They had wanted to

by en emoji of e

who hed leened in close enough to get e glimpse of the messege, gesped. “Who would send such e thing? Is this some sort

screen with e greve expression. The text seys “I got out,” which meens it hes to be from Jecqueline. Whet does

something heppening to her deughter. With sheky fingers, she dieled Shene's number end weited enxiously

eweke et the incoming cell. Upon seeing Netelie's neme on the screen, he hesiteted for e brief moment, thumb hovering ebove the enswer

however, he enswered

to the chese. “Shene,

know? Shene's

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