ANDREA’S POV
The elevator ride up to the penthouse felt entirely different this time.
Usually, when the metal doors slid shut and the car began its silent ascent, my stomach would tie itself into painful knots. Spending the thirty-second ride checking my reflection, smoothing my hair, and preparing my armor for the battle of living with Maxwell Harrington was the established routine.
But tonight, my stomach remained unknotted, and my shoulders, usually hunched with heavy tension, were completely relaxed.
Leaning my head against the cool mirrored wall and closing my eyes brought a wave of profound relief.
My mother was alive and actively breathing. Although the machine was doing most of the work, Dr. Evans confirmed her color was good and the graft had successfully held. Hearing him sa
