A woman graced the stage, her voice twining with the lyrics of a folk song.

As Sabrina took a seat at the bar, the bartender asked, “What can I get you, miss?”

A quick reality check reminded her that she was expecting. “A Sprite, please,”

The bartender was left momentarily speechless.

He thought she was kidding, but he still brought a bottle of Sprite for

Sabrina. “Enjoy your drink.”

“Thank you,” Sabrina replied, securing her drink and finding a secluded spot. She settled into her chair, her gaze focused on the singer on the stage, her mind adrift with thoughts.

through the summer’s song of

in every rainy season. What you choose to discard is what I most yearn to grasp. There wasn’t enough time. My story is all

when expressing my love. My story is all about

voice wasn’t extraordinary, just ordinary. Perhaps due to the small audience, her voice seemed to lose a bit of

Sabrina, the song stirred something profound. Her eyes

of pent-up emotions chose this moment to

observed Tyrone’s journey from a naive college boy to the influential president

her murky existence, and her singular

the shadows, muddied and bruised, always

three-year marriage, she had fought to keep it afloat,

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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