pounding headache behind her temples. She could feel the judgmental stares of

tton. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her finger

e me,

napped open. She

g a few feet away. She was dressed in a pristine, high-end nurse's u

Martha said, gesturing toward the s

of this hospital and away from the humiliation. But a st

ght-lipped smile. "You will

rom her forehead. She follo

ther. Beatrice Beck sat in her wheelchair in the center of the room. Her si

a manicured finger at the leather so

refusing to lean against the cushions. She met

s of her hair, and the fierce, unbroken pride in her eyes. The corner

scles locked tight. "What did you

o walk away with her dignity intact," Beatrice said bluntly.

in her chest loosened. A bitter, self-deprecating laugh esc

There aren't many people left in this world who can take a bu

ad slightly. "Martha,

off balance by the sudd

of the room. The he

ard slightly. "What

. Anabell

ed the name around in her

e nodde

ers daughters have always been... one-sided. It seems th

, choosing not to respond to the

r, the heavy oak

tantly vanishe

the hallway light. He wore a dark, impeccably tailored suit that screamed old money. But it was his face that

ing, suffocating au

diately on Anabelle. He stopped walking. His

ping with amusement. "This is Miss Anabe

strangely weak. She extended her