LENA
I opened the curtain and shut my eyes as a warm rush of air softly dabbed my skin.
“I hope you are right,” I said, turning to the bed.
The door clicked open and the maid who had previously led me in here walked in. She circled her eyes on my ripped shirt, quickly raising her brows in alarm.
“Goodness, how did that happen?” She voiced, dropping her Swiffer duster.
“Oh, it's nothing. It ripped a moment ago.” I said, covering it up again. “Is it possible to get a needle to stich it in place.”
Bab Populer