The clinic was quiet as always. It smelled of antiseptic, that familiar smell that hospitals always had. For some reason, it reminded her of the day she was brought here after she was poisoned. That day, her child’s life was in danger, and the entire place was chaotic. But today, she sat without looking over her shoulder or wondering who wanted her and her child dead.Kael, now one year old, sat on her hip, babbling cheerfully. After the day he said the words ‘Mama’ and ‘Dada,’ he seemed to be speaking more even though he hadn’t formed many coherent words yet. His tiny hands tried to take off her sunglasses as she signed at the reception and waited for their doctor. Charlene had offered to take him or even follow them, but Rashel refused. If she wanted normal, then she would have to create it herself and not wait for things to just become
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