That night, Angela dreamed about her mother. In her dream, she was still a little girl, looking up to the woman she idolized so much; she even told her: "When I grow up, I want to be just like you, mommy."
Her mother smiled, touching her cheek ever so softly, and in the next second, the room changed. Her mother was leaving, and little Angela chased after Cynthia through the thunderstorm.
Angela's heart drummed in her chest, almost in sync with the pitter-patter of the rain dropping on her head. She stumbled and fell on the rough pavement of the road, the car she was chasing disappearing into thin air.
"You'll be just like us. Married to the man your family arranged for you," a low voice whispered in her ear.
She snapped her head to the side and saw Gabriella looking out the road, appearing so gloomy and miserable.
