Isabella’s POV.
“You know if you're comfortable, we can go home,” I suggested yet again to Mekka.
She seemed distracted by her cellphone, texting who knew what, as eyes hovered around the screen for more than an hour.
I had just helped her eat, cleaned her up and laid her bed before she sat on it.
Mekka sat without a single ache in her body, the doctors had said she was fine now and ready to go home but she refused.
“I don't think it's time just yet.” she insisted, “Let's stay longer.”
“But we have children and…” I sighted the leather watch on my left wrist as my forehead wrinkled with stress, “...it's almost their pickup time.”
The day was a Friday, a day before the weekend and no school, which meant more chores to come for me.
Not to mention I was dressed in the clinic's scrubs p
