Kane was old. After spending all night at the hospital, her face was drawn and weary. "Miss Monroe, she was badly injured yesterday. She hasn't even had time to recover, and now she has to travel so far. What if something happens..."
"You know full well how she's treated you all these years. Don't you have any affection for her at all?"
No matter how long or earnestly Kane pleaded, Joyce Monroe had only one reply:
"My father is the one who insists on sending her back to the countryside. Begging me is useless."
"But President Monroe listens to you more than anyone."
"That's true," Joyce Monroe said, bending down closer. Seeing the hesitation on her face, Kane thought, 'She's always been a softy.' A flicker of hope ignited within her, but then Joyce continued, "But I..."
"...have no intention of pleading her case!"
At these words, the color drained from Kane's face. Joyce Monroe had already straightened up and was about to enter her studio.
