Mrs. Bola froze as she heard what her friend said and immediately asked, "Who? You mean a wheelbarrow pusher is the man my daughter is choosing over the senator's son? This is insane."
Mrs. Bola frowned, feeling strange about the revelation. Just then, Cindy rushed downstairs carrying her small box, and her mother looked at her in surprise and asked, "Where are you going with the traveling boxes, Cindy? Don't tell me you're going to live with that poor man!"
"No, Mom. I'm leaving the house, and I will be back later, as I have somewhere to be at 2 p.m.," Cindy lied as she quickly made her way toward the exit door. Mrs. Bola called her back, "Wait, Cindy."
"No, Mom. I'm late, and I'm leaving now. Bye and take care," Cindy said, not giving her mother the chance to confront her, and she qu
