Elita

Laura...

The moment I entered my room, there was a hard smite of a pillow on my face. I let it fall on the floor and looked in the direction from where it was thrown.

A girl in a striped romper, around my age, was standing across the couch, near the bed. Do I know her? I don't think so. I don't have any friend, and I also don't remember having any enemy who looks like her.

"Where is he?" She almost barked just like a mad dog. Whom is she talking about? He? Did she mean Ryan?

"Whom are you talking about? And who are you?" I asked, placing my purse on the table beside me, not giving me all attention to her.

The girl glared at me murderously. "I am talking about your husband. Ryan." She again shouted. "Where is he?"

I heaved a deep sigh and glanced at the door, waited for Ryan to come, crossing my arms over my chest. Meanwhile, I felt that girl burning in anger as hot as lava.