“Are you okay, Nicole? How is it there?” Melanie inquired on the other end of the line, speaking in Tagalog.
Dasha called her antique shop employee at around three in the morning, which meant it was ten in the morning in the Philippines. She could not sleep, thinking about what was going to happen to her and with her life in the Isle of Man. She left Desmond sleeping in their room, while she stood on the balcony with the French windows closed.
The air was fresh and cool that she had to wear a thick bathrobe. One arm lay across her body, and the other hand held the phone against her ear.
She sighed. Hearing her other name from a familiar person was a bit soothing. Melanie could not call her by her real name, as the latter was used to the one given to her by Old Carmelita. She missed the
