Owen's laughter rang through the emergency department's hall. By some twisted mercy, the ward wasn't crowded today; still, the tense scene pulled eyes from every corner. Nurses, patients, and families all pretended to look away, afraid to breathe too loud in the presence of the two names that carried weight like loaded guns—Kingsley and Kennedy.
"You… of all people, suddenly regret your behavior after twenty-something years of being a mother?" Owen sneered at Jasmine, the sound like gravel grinding in his throat. "And you think that pitiful little speech of yours will move me?" He tapped his cane against the floor, each click sharper than the last. "I've been living this life for seventy-one years. I've seen more of it than you could ever imagine. Don't think your tears mean anything to me."
