Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Lacey’s forced smile returned, brittle and cold. She knew she couldn’t escalate things further, not with Landon’s eyes boring into her and Calvin’s thinly veiled threat hanging in the air.
“You misunderstand me,” Lacey said, her tone dripping with a sweetness that only heightened the tension.
“I was upset, but I’m not someone who holds grudges. I hope the same can be said of you.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze cutting.
“Elma still needs me,” she continued, turning the focus to her advantage.
“Instead of wasting your energy on veiled sarcasm, Calvin, perhaps you should spend more time supporting her.”
With those parting words, Lacey turned on her heel and walked away, her head held high.
Landon studied Calvin, his face clouded with mixed feelings. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Why did you apologize to her? You didn’t mean it, did you?”
Calvin met Landon’s gaze, his lips curling into a faint smirk that bordered on mockery.
“Sincere or not, it’s what she wanted to hear. If I didn’t, with her temper, she might’ve taken it out on my mom-or worse, refused to treat Elma. We can’t afford that, can we?”
Landon stiffened, the truth in Calvin’s words cutting deep. As much as he hated to admit it, Calvin was right-they couldn’t afford to cross Lacey.
Leila stepped forward, placing a hand on Calvin’s shoulder. Her expression was firm but tinged with concern.
“Calvin, don’t talk to your dad like that. He’s doing the best he can under the circumstances.”
Calvin’s cold smile didn’t waver.
“His best? Then he needs to try harder. Don’t tell me Lacey is the only capable doctor in the world. There has to be another skilled doctor.”
Landon didn’t react with anger. Instead, Calvin’s words struck a raw nerve, a reminder of his own inadequacy. He lowered his gaze, pressing his lips together, and said nothing.
Seeing Landon’s silence, Leila sighed, exasperation etched into her features. She gently tugged at Calvin’s arm.
“Enough, Calvin. This isn’t the time for blame. Elma’s health is what matters most right now.”
Later that afternoon, Elma briefly regained consciousness, her fragile voice offering a fleeting glimmer of hope. But by evening, her condition took a turn for the worse, and a fever set in, throwing the household into disarray.
Leila immediately suggested taking Elma to the hospital.
“No,” Lacey said firmly, crossing her arms.
“Moving her now would only make things worse.”
Lacey insisted on her treatment plan of acupuncture. Each needle prick drew a sharp gasp from Elma, and Leila’s heart fractured a little more with every cry.
Given the state of Lacey’s hand injury, it was clear she couldn’t continue Elma’s treatment properly. With a sharp sigh, she turned and muttered, “I need to find Mr. Kensington. There’s something important I need to discuss with him.”
Leila hesitated, her instincts urging her to follow. She rose quickly and moved toward the door, only to find Lacey blocking her path with a cold, unyielding glare.
“This is between Mr. Kensington and me,” Lacey said, her voice clipped.
“What does it have to do with you? Do you really need to hover around him all the time?”
Leila’s brows knit together, her patience already worn thin.
“I’m not hovering,” she replied, her voice firm but calm.
“I have every right to know. If this concerns Elma, I need to hear it-I’m her mother.”
Lacey’s lips curved into a sharp smile, her tone dripping with disdain.
“Your right? Really? If you were such a devoted mother, Elma wouldn’t have been in this condition to begin with.”
Leila straightened her posture, refusing to back down just yet.
“This is about Elma, not your petty need to shut me out. I’m not asking for permission-I’m in for the discussion.”
“Oh?” Lacey crossed her arms, her posture dripping with disdain.
“I’m Elma’s doctor. Have you conveniently forgotten that? And let’s not play coy-I know what you’re really worried about. You think I’ll steal Landon away from you.”
Lacey snorted, leaning in slightly as her voice dropped to a venomous whisper.
“You’re terrified that if Landon chooses me, you’ll have nothing left. But while you’re busy obsessing over him, Elma is suffering. She needs you now. Not your insecurities, not your jealousy-you.”
The mention of Elma broke through Leila’s defenses, her anger giving way to concern.
From the corner of her eye, Lacey saw Landon approaching, his tall figure cutting through the tense scene. Without another word to Leila, she pushed past her and hurried toward Landon.
Lacey’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant, the sharpness in her voice replaced by a sickly-sweet tone.
“Mr. Kensington, it’s about Elma,” she said, her tone measured yet urgent.
“We need to discuss this immediately.”
Landon’s face darkened with concern, and he quickened his pace. As Landon reached Leila, he instinctively reached for her hand, pulling her alongside him.
“Mr. Kensington,” Lacey interjected, her voice soft but firm.
“This is a private matter. I’d prefer to speak with you alone.”
Landon stopped, his hand still gripping Leila’s.
“Leila is Elma’s mother. She has every right to be involved.”
Leila gently pulled her hand free, her expression calm but resolute.
“It’s all right, Landon,” she said, her voice laced with quiet determination.
“Elma needs someone with her right now. I’ll stay. Just tell me what you discuss later.”
Landon hesitated, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. With a reluctant nod, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. His touch lingered, his expression heavy with love and unspoken words.
Lacey stood rooted in place, her polished mask cracking. Her nails bit into her palms as she fought the bitterness clawing its way to the surface. Her carefully cultivated poise faltered under the weight of her jealousy, her lips tightening into a thin line.
As Lacey followed Landon into the study, she paused on the way, glancing back at Leila with a look that was neither pity nor triumph, but something sharper; something veiled. Her plan was close to succeeding. Soon, Leila, Elma, and Calvin would be nothing more than shadows in Landon’s life. In no time, Landon would be hers entirely, his heart and his world emptied of everyone else.
Leila tiptoed back to Elma’s bedside, arriving just as the latter had swallowed her latest dose of medication and succumbed once more to a restless slumber.
Sweat blanketed Elma’s forehead, her face pallid and etched with lines of pain, while her eyelids remained fiercely shut against the world. Drenched in worry, Leila took a seat next to the bed, enveloping Elma’s cold hand in both of hers. She leaned in close, her voice a soft caress against the backdrop of the sterile room.
“Elma, sweetheart, Mommy’s here, right beside you. There’s nothing to fear. I’ll be your guardian through every moment. Remember to take your medicine, just like the doctors say, and you’ll be running around with Calvin and Sophie before you know it.”
As Leila’s comforting whispers filled the room, Elma’s fingers quivered faintly in response.
This subtle movement didn’t escape Leila’s vigilant eyes. She then noticed a chilling blueness overtaking Elma’s fingertips, the skin there shaded a disturbing dark blue right under the nails-a sight only perceptible upon close examination.
What had first been dismissed as a routine health issue now ominously suggested poisoning.
Leila frowned. Strangely enough, their doctor, Lacey, had never hinted at such a dire possibility. Could such symptoms really have emerged just now?
Doubt clouded Leila’s thoughts. It was hard to believe that Lacey, as attentive as she was reputed to be, could overlook such critical symptoms in Elma’s condition.
Leila harbored suspicions, her instincts prickling uneasily. Stealthily, she withdrew her phone and snapped a quick photo of Elma’s hand. With the utmost care, she positioned Elma’s hand back exactly as it had been, as if untouched. She intended to use this as a test for Lacey, to discern whether Lacey genuinely aimed to heal Elma. If Lacey remained silent about the incident to either Leila or Landon in the days to follow, it would signal something was amiss.
