Eva searched through her contact lists for Mary’s number and was about to press the call button when a familiar figure suddenly materialized in front of her.
The phone fell from her hand as a loud gasp escaped her throat.
Before her was Monica’s battered silhouette lying slumped on the rough ground. Her once neat and wrinkle-free cream-colored dress was soaked in blood with ugly gashes all over her once smooth olive skin.
“Monica.” Eva rushed toward the wounded lady and squatted next to her.
Even though their previous argument left a bad taste in her heart, she couldn't just stand by and watch the same female who had helped her a great deal suffer like this without doing something to help her.
“What happened to you, Monica? How the hell did you get hurt this badly?”
“Miss Eva.
