“Home is a shelter from storms – all sorts of storms.” – William J. Bennett
PRESENT DAY
The clearing of a masculine throat and the tapping of fingers on the steering wheel of the car jolted Miranda out of her memories. They were about to cross over the Berbice River Bridge into East Berbice.
“Ma’am, we are now entering East Berbice so I need you to confirm the destination,” the driver said, bringing her back to the present.
With another spike of guilt, Miranda performed a mental scrub, wiping away the memory of Ranveer, and instead concentrating on Raphael’s handsome face. He was the one she loved, the most important person in her life, she told herself. Never mind, he was an exact replica of his father, albeit a brown version.
“Um, yes, sorry about that. I zoned out for a minute. You
