She had never liked mysteries. You could only read them once, after all, because once it was over you knew everything and it didn’t matter as much.

This was why she was so annoyed when one dropped right in the middle of her life.

“Wouldn’t you rather the mystery be solved and it not be a problem later on?” her best friend asked as they sat in the police station.

She shook her head. “It’s real life now. Who says it’ll be solved?”

“That’s a bit pessimistic, don’t you think?”

“There was a dead person in my house. Damn straight I’m pessimistic.”