The Last Cup of Tea

Chapter 1: One Last Time

At 4:17 on a wet Thursday afternoon, the telephone rang in the empty house.

Mara Bell was standing in the kitchen, washing a cup her cousin had used less than an hour before.

She remembered the time because the small clock above the sink had stopped at 4:17. Its second hand trembled between two marks as if trying to push forward but lacked the strength.

The telephone rang again.

It was an old cream-colored phone fixed to the wall beside the pantry door. Mara wiped her hands on her skirt and lifted the receiver.

“Hello?”

For a moment, she heard only the faint crackle of the line.

Then a man said, “Mrs. Bell?”

“Yes.”

“This is Constable Harris. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”