The discharge papers felt like a lie.
Kendella stood by the hospital bed, her hands steady as she packed her mother's silk robe into a designer overnight bag. To the rest of New York, Marliese Delacroix was a walking miracle. She had undergone a successful transplant, secured a donor in record time, , and was heading home to her Fifth Avenue sanctuary.
But Kendella wasn't looking at the headlines. She was looking at the way her mother's hand shook as she reached for a glass of water.
"You're overthinking again, Kendella," Marliese whispered, her voice a thin thread. "The doctors said I need rest, not a vigil."
"I'm not overthinking, Mother. I'm watching you," Kendella countered, her eyes narrow. "You're pale. You're losing weight. Something isn't adding up."
