LAUREN ZSANELLE
I keep walking back and forth on the tiled floor of the living room while caressing my baby bump. “Is there any pain you’re feeling, Lauren?” Mama asked me and I just shook my head. “Ma, I’m getting worried about Harrold and his group. I didn’t even receive any text from them.” I complain. She holds my hand. “My son. He will be fine and so his group,” she said and I know that she’s trying to calm me.
“But,” I said and she squeezed my hand. “Don’t stress yourself, Lauren. They are not kids anymore and they can manage their selves,” she said so I nodded and inhaled deeply. Maybe the signal of the network in their place was not fast and stable. I just think of the positive thoughts so they won’t affect my emotions.
I almost jump when I saw the name of Gertrude on my scree
