Sapphire wheeled herself into the confines of her mother's house, the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla greeting her as the door clicked shut behind her. Once inside, she glanced around, something she had become used to doing over the years to ensure she was alone.
Satisfied, she rose from the wheelchair, her legs stiff from disuse. She made her way to the kitchen, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
As she entered the sun-drenched kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. She had just poured herself a cup when she heard the front door open and close.
"Sapphire, are you here?" her mother asked.
"In the kitchen, Mom," Sapphire said, settling back into her wheelchair.
Her mother appeared in the doorway, concerned and exasperated. She sighed and shook her head as she took in the sight of her daughter in the wheelchair.
"How long are you going to keep this up, Sapphire?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "This pretense... it's not healthy."
Sapphire's
