“Devandra, pick up... please pick up…” Vania muttered softly, biting her lip as she stared at her phone screen.
She had tapped the green button three times, and three times the call had been disconnected immediately. No dial tone. No signal that Devandra’s phone was still active. Her heart clenched with anxiety, her fingers trembling as they gripped the cold device.
She paced back and forth in the villa bedroom, her eyes occasionally glancing at the half-open suitcase in the corner of the room. Her clothes were neatly folded. The 8 a.m. flight ticket to Jakarta was already in her email, and she had booked a secret taxi using a backup number—one that no one, not even Revaldo, knew about.
This was the only way, Vania thought. She couldn’t stay here any longer. Too much pressure, too much
