"What if she wasn't clean?"
The words of those women rang in her ears, making Sahara's strong facade crack bit by bit. She hid herself in the bathroom, covering her face.
"I want to go home…" she whispered but she immediately pushed it down.
There was too much anchored in her success and she could not fail just because of her own weaknesses.
Whenever she remembered that night, she felt shame. It was something she refused to acknowledge, yet couldn't forget no matter how hard she tried.
Although the memory was a little blurry, she could still remember that man. She could remember his dark skin, his light hair, his handsome features. More importantly, she could still remember his warmth and gentleness—
She shook everything off and her poised stance returned. She headed out, hoping to find the people who could help her out.
…
