—

A moment later, she appeared in the bedroom doorway with her purse over one arm.

Her eyes traveled slowly over me.

Then she glanced at the clock on my nightstand.

“It’s five o’clock, Yolanda.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re STILL in bed?”

I stared at her.

“I have a fever, Angela.”

She placed two fingers lightly against my forehead.

For half a second, I almost appreciated it.