In My Desperate Time

Thirty- three years, what can I say?

I can only say that Frances Louis is good at math.

I am twenty-four years old this year. Thirty-three years later, I will be fifty-seven years old. Will all my youth be wasted on this man?

God knows how desperate I am to get away from this fate and live the life I want.

“No matter what, I can’t give up.”

“Four million, I will pay you off.”

I say to Frances Louis confirmedly.

His eyes fall on me and he stares at me for a while.

I don’t know what he is thinking, and I couldn't see through that look. The unreadable Frances Louis frightens me.

Frances Louis's phone rings in front of me, breaking the eerie silence.

He looks at the screen as if hesitating whether to answer it or not.

Whose call makes Frances Louis look like this?

I peep at it and see Whitney Jordan’s name.

name makes me

a woman should be psychologically tough to be a

help saying, “Are you not answering your wife's call? Perhaps she has

at me with a frown, then he taps on the

“Hello.”

is large, plus the room is quiet, or because I'm listening

my phone for so

questioning with no

driving.” Frances Louis

come

small talks, but it sounds like flirting over the phone

I hear Whitney Jordan suddenly ask, “Did you lose your Black

looks in my direction,

woman using your black card. It

and I am

I gave it to Steven Song. Maybe he gave it to his employee. It's late, go to bed

Frances Louis hangs

But I feel uneasy.

in a grave voice, “Did you run into

too. But how did she know I was using your card? Aren't black cards

card is specially made