Three months later.
I stood in front of the door of Kendella's penthouse, shifting Hanalei's weight on my hip. I took a breath and pressed the bell.
The locks clicked—one, two, three—before the door swung open.
Kendella stood there, wearing a slip dress that cost more than most people's cars, but her eyes were tired. She looked at me, then at the invitation in my hand, and finally, her gaze softened as it landed on the bundle in my arms.
"Aurielle?" she murmured, her voice sounding like it hadn't been used all day.
Before I could answer, Kendella reached out, gently as she took Hanalei from me. She pulled the baby close to her chest, burying her face in the soft scent of Hanalei's hair.
"How's my pretty niece doing? Hmm?" Kendella whispered, a genuine, fragile smile touching her lips for the first time in weeks. She pressed a lingering peck onto Hanalei's forehead.
