Tessa

“Are you going to eat that?” The breakfast burrito pauses halfway to my mouth as I glance at Harper across the counter in the kitchen.

She’s got her eyes trained on her phone as she hurriedly types away at a speed that seems almost impossible.

If only she could work that fast on the computer at work, maybe I wouldn’t have to help her out so much. Who she could possibly be texting this early on a Thursday morning, I have no idea, but as ...