It was yet another day with no rain, and as usual, Agnes was busy running an errand. Layla was sleeping peacefully, one hand resting over her belly, her lips slightly parted. But suddenly, a crease formed over her forehead, and she began murmuring something in her sleep.
"Layla…" Hearing her name for the second time, she shot her eyes open with a start to see Michael's face hovering over hers.
"Mi-Michael…" Her voice was barely above a whisper; stretching her hand, her palm reached for his cheek to touch nothing but thin air. Right then, she heard Agnes's uncle's voice beside her.
"Did you see Michael?" the old man asked, while Layla tilted her head to catch sight of him sitting on the single couch with a newspaper in hand.
Layla nodded her head, and before she could control herself, tears formed in her eyes, ready to trickle down, which she wiped away with the back of her hand. She began sniffling, followed by hiding her face in her joined palms.
