(Author's POV)
Sienna sat alone at the table. She pressed the cloth napkin between her hands and breathed through the tightening in her lower abdomen. It had been there since yesterday - a low, persistent ache she didn't want to think too hard about.
She didn't go to the hospital. The last time she'd gone, Victoria had stood at the foot of her bed and told the attending nurse, loud enough for the whole room to hear, that her daughter-in-law had a talent for manufacturing symptoms. Sienna had lain there with an IV in her arm and said nothing.
This time she went back to the bedroom and stayed there for two days.
On the second afternoon, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She wanted to call someone. Just to talk. Just to hear a voice that wasn't cold or indifferent
