AUTHORS POV

Regina woke up to a damp pillow, the time on the table clock was an unmistakable evidence of a day spent crying, it was past 4pm.

The sun was beginning no give way for darkness to take over as it’s golden beams slowly withdrew from drawn curtains, Regina did not notice the smudged tear stains on her cheeks.

For hours, she had lain in bed, unaware of the numerous calls from Pablo, or the call from her masseuse.

She recalled every word she’d overheard from Pedro and Franco—their conversation had cut deeper than any sharp object.

In the midst of that agony, a disturbing thought crept into her...