𝑀𝐼𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐷𝐴 𝑃𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆𝑇𝐿𝑌

“I'm so tired.” Miranda mutters softly, holding the phone to her ear, while blue eyes ran around the room of a five-star hotel immersed in semi-darkness with absolutely no interest. She didn't even bother to turn on the light, plopping down in the nearest chair and dialing your number first. An unexpected trip to London for work, when the only thing she wanted that evening was to spend time with you and her beloved girls.

Caroline and Cassidy are good girls, they are probably used to the unplanned departure of an eternally busy mother. However, now instead of some middle-aged nanny, it was you.

It didn't matter, they were sleeping in their room now and probably had the best dreams. And you? And you were looking at the ceiling with obvious trepidation in your heart. The problem of lack of sleep was only this dreary expectation of the call, which finally sounded.

Even in the middle of the night. Nonsense.