8
It was 7:30 when I got out.
I rushed to the restaurant, tripping on the
stairs and scraping my knee.
A waiter helped me to the table.
But it was occupied by a couple.
く
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I think you have the
wrong table. This table was reserved.”
The waiter said.
I stared blankly.
My phone buzzed with a notification.
It was Ashley on Instagram:
Thanks for the amazing birthday surprise,
babe! Not mad anymore (cute emoji)
The picture was of a huge five–layer cake. Ashley was standing in the center with a
bunch of friends pulling party poppers.
Confetti was everywhere.
The person she was with had a cat sticker
covering their face.
But I knew it was Mark.
I checked the calendar.
Right, it was Ashley’s birthday.
“Ma’am, would you like to reserve a table
now?”
My knee was throbbing.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. Could you tell
me where the nearest hospital is?”
