His jaw clenched.
This is Maia's diary.
He could never forget her writing, those redundant, annoying loops she managed to somehow force in her letters.
He always made fun of them, which only angered Maia to no extent.
He could never forget that.
Lance punched the nightstand harshly, his breath ragged, nostrils flaring. Anger made his blood boil.
What was Adelaide trying to obtain from this?
Throwing the diary on the bed, he reached for his mobile, furiously typing Adelaide's mobile number.
He called but she didn't pick up.
He stared at the diary with loath brimming his eyes.
Or were they tears?
YOU ARE READING
Worth
Historia CortaShe used to believe in miracles. And then she left, leaving ashes of long-lost memories and rivers of tears in her wake; finally making him realize her worth. ©All rights reserved
