Mr.Wrong
Without turning, I retraced my steps until I was aligned with her position on the couch, leaning slightly to peek at the glossy cover she was holding.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I bent forward to get a better view. My brows furrowed as I squinted at the image on the front. Something about it nagged at me, like a distant memory just out of reach.
Still bent over, I asked, “Is not the man on the cover your neighbour?”
Zazu lowered the magazine slightly, giving the cover a more scrutinising look. Her head tilted, and then shrugged her shoulders like she did not care.
Bab Populer