Apples Never Fall

by Liane Moriarty

That was the secret of a happy marriage: step away from the rage.

She would say, Here is one possible motive and here is another, because any marriage of that many years has multiple motives for murder. Every police officer and hairdresser knows that.

She moved through therapists like she moved through boyfriends. She dumped both boyfriends and therapists when they offended her, enraged her, bored her.

Joy looked over her shoulder, walked toward the desk. She would not look. There was no point in looking. It was not a diary. If Savannah had something to hide, she wouldn’t leave it there in plain sight. Who was she kidding? Of course she was going to look.