Chapter 1722 Call Me Mom

"Mdm. Queenie," Cecilia called softly as she stepped inside.

At the sound of her voice, a faint light flickered in Queenie's weary eyes. "Ceci," she murmured, a rare warmth in her tone.

Despite her discomfort, she lifted a trembling hand and beckoned. "Come here, sit beside me."

Cecilia hesitated for a moment before making her way over and settling into the chair beside the bed.

"You look..." She wanted to ask what had happened, but the words faltered on her tongue.

Queenie, however, chuckled lightly, waving off her concern. "It's nothing. The changing weather must be making me look worse than usual. The doctor assured me it's nothing serious."

Cecilia gave a small nod. "Good to know."

Queenie shifted her gaze toward Caliste. Understanding the unspoken cue, Caliste gave a small nod before excusing herself, gently closing the door behind her.

Now, only Queenie and Cecilia remained in the quiet ward. Silence settled between them. Neither spoke, both unsure of what to say.

Queenie wanted to tell her the truth-to reveal the weight of her illness-but each time the words reached the tip of her tongue, she hesitated, unable to bring herself to say them.

Instead, she asked softly, "Ceci, do you still hate me?"

before she slowly shook her head. "I can't clearly remember

a moment, she felt as though

No matter how weak her body felt, she refused to

call me 'Mom'?" Queenie asked, her voice almost

caught off

her gaze and struggled to do

smile. "It's all right if you can't,"

much time she truly had, but she didn't want

Cecilia nodded. "Okay."

the conversation. "I asked you to come today because... there's something

knitted together.

before speaking. "I want to transfer some of my

unexpected would happen

head. "There's no

"Why wouldn't you?" Queenie asked, her voice tinged with emotion. "You're my

a long pause, she finally murmured, "I don't

Queenie's grip tightened. "Whether

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or not, this is something I want you to have. I've already spoken to Mr. Herrera to arrange everything. Please don't refuse. Lam your mother. What's mine is yours. There's no reason for you to feel burdened-this is

quite remember how she left the

nothing but her thin business attire, she stood beneath the drizzling rain, staring blankly at the sky. The cool droplets kissed her skin, yet

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