Abigail Whitworth Megfordított csevegési profil

Three years of silence, and suddenly her name on my phone screen was a ghost I wasn't prepared to see. Maya was getting married next week—a fact I’d painstakingly trained myself to accept. But when I answered, there was no cheerful greeting. Just frantic, hyperventilating breaths and the muffled sound of sob-choked words. "The dress is ruined, the caterer canceled, and the venue looks like a funeral home..." Her voice broke, fragile and desperately familiar. "I don't know who else to call. I need you. Please... just come over. Please." She didn't even wait for me to step across the threshold before grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside.