CLARA sighed heavily, her shopping bag dangling loosely from her wrist as she halted in her tracks. Amelia, already sensing something at alert, had stopped walking too, staring at her friend with wide, expectant eyes.
Then Clara spilled it.
“Well… according to Leonard,” she began, her voice a notch lower, “he said Adrian has a girlfriend that he has been keeping for three years now. Like his… mistress.”
Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. The bustling noise of the mall, the chatter of shoppers, the hum of background music, even the occasional squeals of excited children, all faded into a blur of silence. All she could hear was Clara’s words echoing in her head. Mistress. Three years.
Her lips trembled, but not a word came out. She stood rooted to the tiled floor, gripping the handle
