Daisy Ginger gracefully stood up from the bedside, raised her chin, and chuckled softly, "Auntie Perry, I'm praising you for your cleverness, so why are you upset? Instead of venting your anger on me, maybe you should teach your dear daughter how to win the heart of a married man. That's your specialty, isn't it?"
"Daisy Ginger!" Abigail Perry bit down on her name with hatred, her well-maintained face briefly showing a hint of distortion.
To her, Daisy Ginger could say whatever she wanted, but dragging her daughter into it was an entirely different matter.
The angrier Abigail Perry got, the more beautifully Daisy Ginger smiled.
She stood in the pale hospital room, white blouse, black skirt, yet always charming like a bright flower, with the surrounding light and shadow becoming more colorful because of her presence.
She turned her head and glanced once more at Emily Ginger, who lay on the hospital bed, tears dripping down.
