She brushed Mahli down and put her in the stable, then went into her house. There was nothing to greet her except emptiness. The fire she’d lit when she got in from the airport was still glowing. In happier times Dr. Colbert would have been waiting for her with a cup of hot tea. Maybe tea would make her feel better. She went into the kitchen, put the water on, and found a tea bag. Would tea cure unrequited love? Oh, the big dreams she’d had flying home to Witch Dance. The kitchen blurred. “I won’t cry.” The teakettle whistled, and Kate reached for her cup. Why hadn’t Eagle fought for her? What was so almighty important about being a full-blood? The cup slipped from her hand and crashed onto the kitchen floor. Everything in her life was broken—her dreams, her family ties, her teacup. Reaching into the cabinet, she grabbed another cup. “Why?” she yelled. “Why?” With one mighty burst she sent the cup flying across the kitchen. It crashed with a satisfying smack against the wall.
