"Dad, don't worry. I'm not dying anytime soon. I've been like this for a while now. I just need to go home and grab a few things before heading to the mountains." Soon, my dad took me to the hotel on his electric scooter.
A black business van was already parked at the entrance, clearly waiting for someone. The moment I stepped inside, the manager dragged me to the lounge area. "Mrs. Hawthorne, Sharon is here."
Mila didn't even look up. She said casually, "Help me put on my shoes."
I was momentarily taken aback and the manager immediately pressed my head down. "What are you waiting for? Not everyone has the privilege of putting on Mrs. Hawthorne's shoes."
He grinned obsequiously, but to me, it felt like my face was being pressed into the dirt. Still, what did dignity even mean anymore? I knelt down, took her ankle in my right hand and reached for her sneakers with my left.
"Just as I was about to put them on her, she suddenly stepped down hard. The sharp heel of her stiletto dug into the back of my hand. I gasped in pain and looked up at her.
"Oh, sorry. I was replying to a message, I didn't notice," Mila said without a trace of sincerity.