The Upper East Side Clinic was a palace of white marble and hushed voices.
Davina walked through the revolving doors, feeling instantly out of place. The women in the waiting room wore designer clothes and carried Birkin bags. Davina was wearing her only good blazer, a cheap polyester blend from a discount store.
She approached the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter looked her up and down, her expression barely concealing her disdain.
"Can I help you?" the nurse asked, her tone clipped.
"I have an appointment with Dr. Shaw," Davina said, sliding her ID across the counter. "Davina Maddox."
The nurse typed on her keyboard, her long, manicured nails clicking against the plastic. "I see. And how will you be paying for today's consultation?"
"Credit card." Davina handed over her debit card, praying it wouldn't be declined.
The nurse ran the card, her lip curling slightly as she waited. The machine beeped, and she handed it back. "Please take a seat. The doctor will call you shortly."
Davina sat down in a plush velvet chair, trying to make herself invisible. She picked up a magazine, pretending to read, but the words blurred on the page.
"Well, well, well. Look who's slumming it."
The voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Davina looked up, her stomach dropping.
Brenda stood a few feet away, a smirk plastered on her heavily botoxed face. Beside her was her daughter, Tiffany, who looked like a younger, meaner clone of her mother.
Brenda and her brother Warren had been Davina and Elana's legal guardians after their parents died. They had also been the ones to drain the girls' trust fund dry, leaving them with nothing.
"Brenda," Davina said, her voice flat. "Tiffany."
"I didn't know they let trash in here," Tiffany said loudly, drawing the attention of the other women in the waiting room. "Are you here to clean the bathrooms?"
"I'm here for an appointment," Davina said, turning back to her magazine. "Unlike you, I don't have time for idle gossip."
Brenda stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "An appointment? With a fancy doctor? How are you paying for this, Davina? Did you find another sugar daddy?"
"Or maybe she's selling a kidney," Tiffany giggled. "Though I wouldn't pay much for that used-up body."
Davina's grip tightened on the magazine, the pages crinkling under her fingers. "Leave me alone, Brenda. You've already taken everything from me."
"Taken?" Brenda scoffed. "We raised you, you ungrateful brat. We fed you and clothed you. You owed us."
"You stole our inheritance," Davina shot back, her voice rising. "Every penny our parents left for us. You and Warren spent it on plastic surgery and gambling."
"Lies!" Brenda hissed, her face flushing. "You and your sister were a burden. You should be thanking us for not leaving you on the streets."
"Instead, you left us with nothing," Davina said, standing up. She was shaking, but not with fear. With rage. "You let Warren's friends touch us. You let Shane Riggs-"
"Shut up!" Brenda screeched, her composure cracking. "You little liar!"
"You're the liar," Davina said, taking a step toward her. "You're a thief and a coward."
Tiffany stepped between them, her eyes flashing. "Don't talk to my mother like that, you orphan bitch. You're nothing. You'll always be nothing."
"Maybe," Davina said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But at least I'm not a parasite."
Tiffany's hand shot out, her long nails aiming for Davina's face. "Why you-"
"Your sister's daughter will die.," Brenda spat out, her voice venomous. "Your sister's little girl，Daisy. She's going to rot in the ground, just like your parents."
Something inside Davina snapped.
The years of abuse, the theft, the helplessness and the fear of Daisy's death-it all converged into a single point of blinding rage.
She didn't think. She didn't hesitate.
Her arm swung back, her palm connecting with Tiffany's cheek with a crack that echoed through the silent waiting room.
Tiffany stumbled back, clutching her face, a look of pure shock in her eyes.
