(Anj’s POV)

 

“You should have taken medicine, Angela,” Sister Grace said, her index finger holding my chin as if balancing my face. As of my count, she sighed three times already just from studying my face.

 

Dylan and I had to hurry to take the blankets from the clothesline outside because the cluster of clouds covered the perfect blue sky, hiding the sun and promising a thunderstorm. We reached the porch just in time for clouds to shower their tears on the ground, but before I could hide from Sister Grace, she had already opened the door and seen us.

 

“I’m fine,” I whispered, glancing at Dylan, suppressing a smile on his pressed lips. My eyes narrowed as I watched him continue our work. “Does my hideous face bother you, Sister?” I asked, showing a playful smile at her.

 

She scoffed at me, placing her hand on my hair, brushing off the strands on my puffy face to the side, and putting on my blue peacock hair clip.

 

“Yes and no. Yes, I am bothered, but you’re not hideous,” she said as she placed her hands on my shoulders. The door opened, and Mrs. Antonetta, the culprit, gasped as she saw me.

 

“Who is this ugly girl, Sister Grace?” The eighty-year-old nursing home resident asked, tilting her head from side to side as she tried to recognize me.

 

Dylan could not help himself roaring with laughter upon hearing Mrs. Antonetta. He shook his head, glancing at me again, winking, and mouthing, ‘Don’t believe her. You’re still beautiful.” I felt the heat on my cheeks, blushing as he gazed at me.

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Antonetta!” I greeted her as I helped her step onto the porch, and it was also my opportunity to pretend not to mind Dylan.

 

“Oh… but you sounded like Angela,” she said, still looking at my face as she sat on the wooden bench.

 

“Because I am Angela,” I answered, walking toward Dylan and punching him in his arm. “I hate you,” I said, frowning at him before taking the book in my bag, but he only laughed at me.

 

“What happened to you? You can’t go to a party like that,” she said, adjusting her eyeglasses as I handed her the book she reads daily.

 

Sister Grace only looked at me, not saying anything.  I know that face, a look that she is still undecided whether to allow me to go or not. With my face now, I would rather not go and sulk in my room later.

 

I won’t go,” I twitched my lips as I went back to Dylan’s side, helping him fold the

 

Sister Grace said and heaved a sigh. “You know that this is not a children’s party, right? People coming to this

 

corrected, hoping I

 

she chuckled. “Let this poor girl go to the party.” She turned to Dylan. “How about you, young man? Will you be going

 

store later tonight,” he answered, glancing at me with a worried

 

all wasting your youth. When I was your age, I would go to every party and enjoy my life,” she smiled at me, leaning her head toward me to whisper. “And make out to interesting

 

head, she gasped and chuckled

 

curiously. “What are you doing at that university? Just study? Are there no gorgeous guys in

 

hating him whenever he did it to me. “Not only she’s young, but every guy is intimidated by

 

flickered toward me. “You have to hurry to guard this young lady here. She might be taken away by her

 

a smile when I saw Sister Grace rolling

 

 

of eighteen,” My

 

don’t be like Sister Grace. All she did was pray, serve, and work here,” she

 

her, picking up the blankets Dylan had already folded and handing them to Sister Grace, just

 

chuckled, flickering her eyes on her. “I always forget that. Come on, Sister Grace, give this poor girl a break. Let her brain stop working for a while.

 

she said, kissing the top of my head. “You can go, but you must bring Mrs. Wilbur the flowers for the offering for the service tomorrow morning. Make sure to bring it later before you and Anya go to the

 

joy as I hear the answer to the prayer I have been asking for days. My eyes went round, looking quickly at Dylan to make sure I heard her right. When he nodded, I pressed my lips, suppressing showing an excited and cheerful

 

I called Sister Grace. “Why?” I

 

birthday gift to you, Angela,” she answered. “But as I told you, this kind of party is not for you, and there will be drinking and who knows what else. Don’t

 

have nothing to worry about with our little Angel here,” interrupted Mrs. Antonetta. “With that face, she’ll probably

 

shook his head. “Thanks for the kind words, Mrs. Antonetta,” I said, hiding the sarcasm in my words. “But I was hoping to find my prince charming

 

her hand and telling me to come closer. I walked to her side, sat on the couch, and then waggled my eyebrows at Dylan, which

 

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