Tinuke stared at the hole in the carpet as if her life depended on it.
She would have melted into the orifice if she could fit in. She had already wished herself into oblivion, but it was pretty obvious she had run out wishes for the year.
If only those rancour-filled eyes would stay off her…that look of pique kept eating away at the remnants of her tainted soul.
“Would seven prove to be too much?” These were the words echoing in her head when the door opened and Mr. Abortionist, her moniker for him, beckoned at her…