The Beach House (South Carolina Sunsets, #1)

by Rachel Hanna

She thought about how weird life was, that sometimes the last thing happens and you didn’t know it was going to be the last thing.

But she was a mother, and mothers have to fake being sure most of the time.

“Just remember this. What they’ll do with you, they’ll do to you. Good luck because you’re going to need it.”

She was alone. Her marriage had been a facade, apparently. Her kids were wonderful, despite it all, but even they were gone. Her only chance at having a life was getting away from this place and these people.

“There’s three kinds of husbands, in my unbiased opinion. Good ones, scoundrels and dead ones.”

More than anything, she missed that feeling, the one where she knew someone had her back.

“Family can be a weird thing. Sometimes, they’re all you’ve got. Other times, they can be your worst enemy.”

“This tree represents you climbing out of that pit of marriage you were in… all those lies… all that betrayal. And when you get to the top, you’ll see your whole new beautiful future laid out in front of you. Don’t you want to see that? Don’t you want to push past all of your fears? Don’t you want to be something… someone… totally new?”

“Because a picture can’t capture this present moment. It can’t capture the smell or the sounds or the colors. You have to save those in your mind.”

“Sugar, you’re never too old to follow your dreams. Seventy may seem old now, but it sure ain’t when you’re closing in on it like I am!”