RACHEL’S pov.

>>Hours Later<<

I glared at Fatima who sat on a sofa, with a small and concentrated frown on her face, as she was playing a game on her phone, and with her current expression, I could tell she has hit a hard rock -she couldn’t advance to the next level in her game.

My eyebrows furrowed as I wondered why she isn’t reacting to my stares, because I know very well she could feel my eyes on her.

“Come on, Fatima, let me go, or I’ll be late for my therapy session” I complained for the hundredth time this morning.

“Mrs Baldwin” she paused her game, and threw...