FIFTY EIGHT: THE OTHER WOMAN

[SHAIRA's POINT OF VIEW]

"Mom, where's Ms. Allysa? Is she still outside?" Tamra asked while peeking at the window a couple of times.

I slightly slid the window aside, then noticed the changing mood of the clouds. The soft cotton candy began to gather in the sky. Until now, the sky had been perfect for a postcard, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail blue began to darken to gravel grey. Large cushions of cloud formed, erasing the sun's old golden color. The winter sky is a widow's sky, darkened and weeping. The clouds are rude and Kraken-cruel. They cough up little drops of water, making the window soaked in moisture.

"It's about to rain hard. Let's try to contact your nanny again," I replied.

Tamra handed over the phone to me, so I started pressing numbers to reach out to Allysa, but it was not even ringing.