“Rozelyn…” He muttered her name as if it was a sacred word, a prayer.

            “Roz…”

            “You really think that—never mind!”  She jerked her head back to Thalia’s house and saw Rosette and Aruba waving at her, the latter was holding an umbrella.

            “Hush you two! You’re both already soaked in the rain!”

            “We’re fine, Aruba,” Rozelyn simply said then walked towards the house, without any umbrella.

            “Love quarrel, eh?” Aruba teasingly utter. Cyrill just glared at her, then glanced back at Rozelyn. The latter was given a towel by Thalia.

            “Love is a monster indeed…” Cyrill Emerson Clarke declared.

***

“You’re a bitch, Romaine.”

            Romaine—Mary Bathory peered at Dorrien, smiling...