CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

“Mrs. Clinton?” The driver shook me out of my state.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, and of course, he couldn’t recognize Clinton because he was dressed in black and covered most of his body.

“Yes, please drive, I'll direct you,” I said, wiping away tears. As much as I wanted to cry, I couldn’t do it in front of people.

He started the car, and I directed him to my house. When we arrived, I gave him his money and headed inside.

“Mrs. Clinton.”

“I will send you a text to the location so you can pick up the car,” I said to my driver, giving him the keys as I walked inside.

“Mrs. Clinton, welcome home.” Matilda greeted.

“Where are the kids?”

“They are taking a nap, do you want to see them?”

“Don’t you realize it’s almost four and they are still asleep?” I asked angrily.

“I’m.. I didn’t.”

“You didn’t what? Do you want my kids to get sick?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith, I will quickly go.”

“And now you want to wake them up?” I asked when she attempted to run to their bedroom, she looked confuse