“So, Benji, huh?” A knowing grin spread on her face as Deven watched her sister.

Kennedy quickly dismissed the budding insinuation. “Girl please, it is not like that,” she said. “You know Benji is my friend. He’s in town on some business and we’re just catching up a little. That’s all.”

Something seemed to glint in Kennedy’s eyes, and it was clear she wasn’t bothering to hide her blush. The girl looked smitten, and it was sickeningly cute.

“So, is this little date thing with Benji?”

“No, not Benji. Someone else.” Typical Kennedy. How did she keep up with them all?

“Who is he?” Deven pressed.

Kennedy tossed her jacket over the crook of her arm. “Nobody important,” she said with a wink. “Just having a little fun. But I better go before he starts looking for me.”

“Okay well be careful, Sis. Remember I told you, boyfriends are smart—”

“Husbands are dumb,” she quoted. “Yeah, I know. Trust me though. I’m not even thinking about marriage right now. But if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

Deven watched her sashay from the room. If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn her devenstinct was signaling a looming sense of trepidation about Kennedy’s brief visit. But after everything that had just happened with the loss of her babies, she figured it was probably just hormones. Those, like everything else in the past few days, had been completely nonsensical.

“The voicemail box is full.”

Restrained frustration had Deven jabbing the button on her cell to hang up, for the fifth time. Where was she?

Deven held her abdomen as she eased back down onto the hospital bed. She was fully dressed in the clothes Kennedy had brought the day before, and she was armed with pain meds and pads for her at-home aftercare. The nurse would be in any moment with discharge papers, so she was ready to leave. Had been ready to leave. Being poked and prodded for four days in the hospital under the scrutiny of her coworkers had left her restless, exhausted, and irritable. She wanted nothing more than to get back home, scrub off her misery, and lay in the comfort of her own bed. But it didn’t seem like that would be happening as quickly as she would have liked.

Deven frowned as she dialed Kennedy’s number again. And again, she was met with the same operator tone, indicating Kennedy’s phone was off or she just wasn’t answering. Both scenarios were equally strange. She should’ve been on her way. Actually, she should’ve been there hours ago, if Deven was tracking the minutes.