Then she leaned down, so close that her perfume stung Daisie’s nose, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.
“I’ve got some good news for you—that useless father of yours is dead. Dr. Wilson—that doctor I hired… Wasn’t his technique impressive? I did spend quite a bit of money to make sure he got the job done.”
Her smile deepened. “Oh, and one more thing.”
She straightened slowly, taking a moment to admire the flicker of pain twisting Daisie’s face. Then she leaned back in again, her tone turning almost gleeful.
“Truth is… my kidney was perfectly fine. Never had a problem.”
Daisie’s pupils shrank.
Kendra laughed softly, savoring her shock, and brushed her hair back with deliberate grace.
“But what can you do? Willard believes me. He loves me. The moment I said I needed a transplant, he had everything arranged right away. Tell me—doesn’t that prove how much he adores me?”
Daisie shook her head in disbelief. “No… No, that’s impossible…”
If that was true, then all her suffering—signing that donation agreement, sacrificing a kidney just to save her father—had been nothing but a joke for someone’s fun.
Seeing the hatred rising in Daisie’s eyes, Kendra smiled even wider.