PREVIEW
... table without asking, crossed my leg over my knee and began shaking my foot nervously...
"I’m going to make some chamomile tea. Then we can talk."
Martha moved around her kitchen like a woman who might have spent more time in there than she ever did in her bed. Pulling mason jars and vials of herbs - some dry, some not quite, some powdered - from an old wooden pharmacy cabinet.
Measuring a potent, dried version of the relaxing herb into an ’infuser’ lowered into ceramic ...
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