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6.Hate
Celia
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my white coat, I leaned to the glass looking at the peacefully sleeping babies in their small beds. The harsh truth, a truth that could slap us right across our face is that these beds could be their death beds too. Hundreds of children were born and died every day. The babies I am looking at are premature, born underweight, or with pulmonary or cardiac problems. They looked peaceful, sound asleep. But the fact they are struggling to breathe is not known. They are suffocating just like me. They have incubators, hospitals, and us to cure. Whom do I have? Soon after the question was popped into my head, I got a call from Sasha.
"Celia?"
"Hmm."
"Where are you?"
"Hmm."
I heard the breath she let out there," looking at the babies?"
"Hmm."
"Okay. I won't take much time. Can you reach ho
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Ruthless 14.Pleasure
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