Ziyana
I blew my hair with that hair dryer, staring at my reflection in the mirror before me. The dryer did its job for a while and I placed it on the table before me. It might seem untrue but the men had allowed me the decency of owning a room to myself. In their words, I needed my privacy too , especially since I'd be starting school soon. The thought of having a private sanctuary of my own was indeed peaceful and I welcomed the idea thanking them profusely that night, but it all tastes like scam now with the stunt pulled by Vittorio at school today.
“School,” I thought before I remembered that I had an essay that had to be submitted before midnight. I sighed and swerved my chair towards the laptop on the table. I switched it on and quickly went to Google.
Vittorio Niccolo, I typed.
