“What did the doctor say?” Myra asked as she opened the door for Dora to enter.
“The doctor said a lot of things, Myra.” She said, her voice barely a whisper. She collapsed on the couch, “He said a lot of things. This mark on my wrist is like a mirror to whoever that is after my life.”
“Do you want to cut off your hand or what?” Myra questioned, looking sternly at her.
“I wish I can.”
“Then do it, cut off your wrist.”
Dora threw her an angry look. “You’re not helping matters at all, Myra. Honestly.”
“What?” she flew her eyes open. “You said it yourself, the mark on your wrist is like a mirror. In other to avoid whoever it is after your life from finding you, then you have to cut it off.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Yeah, I’m kidding.” She said, chuckling. “So, what are you pl
