Perhaps because her first two transplants had been so easy to arrange, she assumed it would always be that simple. She believed that with another healthy kidney, she would be perfectly fine again.
“Just clean up the room for now. Then have the family doctor come over and prescribe some diuretics for Yolanda,” Mrs. Walker said wearily.
The maid nodded but remained rooted to the spot, hesitating to speak.
“Is there something else?” Mrs. Walker asked.
“Miss Yolanda smashed the bathroom mirror again. Should we replace it?” the maid asked cautiously.
Yolanda’s body was quite swollen now, and she broke down every time she saw her reflection. She had shattered nearly every mirror in the house.
“Forget it. Don’t replace it for now,” Mrs. Walker sighed deeply.
The two maids quickly and efficiently cleaned the room.
Yolanda’s mood finally stabilized. After the family doctor arrived, he put her on an IV drip.
Yolanda lay on her large bed, an IV tube still inserted in the back of her hand.
Mrs. Walker sat by her bedside, her eyes filled with heartache.
“Where’s Dad?” Yolanda asked.
“Your father is busy with work. He had to go out,” Mrs. Walker said vaguely.
Yolanda let out a cold laugh.
Before, whenever she was sick, her father would stay by her bedside no matter how busy he was.
She was his little princess, the apple of his eye, his only treasure.
Yes, before, she had been his only child. But not anymore.

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