FROWN marred Uno’s face at the silence when she opened the door of the house.
She saw no one as she stands in the living room. She heard no sounds from the kitchen either.
She gazed at the watch on her wrist. It was ten minutes past five in the afternoon.
Twain should be here by now. His last class ends at four.
Like she always did the last two years she went to the room next to the one she and Winona occupied.
Three years ago, they moved to the new house. It was a single-story house with three bedrooms. It tripled the size of the cabin where they used to live.
Her eyes soften at the scenario that greeted her in the room.
Her mate was asleep together with their son, who was still in his PE uniform. Winona and Twain’s arms were across the small body of the sleeping toddler betwee
