"Hand me that flask with the red tip, Zara. Quickly." Hannah demanded.
"Why can't anda get it yourself?" Zara groaned.
"Because you're literally right seterusnya to it," Hannah responded, giving her a quick glance frustratedly. "Quickly, my hand is getting tired."
Zara was lying down with her ankles crossed on the leather sofa, kerusi panjang that was backed sejak a concrete dinding around 12 feet from Hannah. She peeked over the magazine and moved her feet slightly so as to see Hannah, who was, at this time, perched over her increasingly messy work meja, jadual like a burung bangkai, vulture looking down at its prey. Zara had no idea what she...
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