“I’m staying.” Deven took her time climbing down from the bar stool. “Just promise me that tomorrow, you’ll go to the store and get some security cameras—” She winced as the shooting pain returned full force, throbbing in her lower abdomen like a cramp. Damn, maybe she did need to go home for her pain medicine. She’d been thoughtless to run out of the house without it. But then, she didn’t think she was going to be gone too long either.

Kennedy rounded the bar and grabbed Deven’s arm in concern. “Are you okay?”

Deven hissed through the ache as it slowly began to ebb. “Yeah. Just the last-minute effects of the miscarriage.”

It was as if the word was like a light switch and Kennedy’s entire face went ashen. “Oh shit, oh shit, I’m so sorry,” she said, her fingers flying to her mouth. “Deven, oh my God, I completely forgot to pick you up!”

“It’s cool.”

“No, it’s not. Damn, I’m an idiot. How are you feeling? What did the doctors say? And I got you out here late with this foolishness when you’re the one that needs to be resting.”

Deven waved away her sister’s concern. Not that it was disingenuous. It just didn’t matter anymore. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just a lot of bleeding and cramping. It’s like a really bad period. I’ve got some pain medicine but unfortunately I left it at home.”

Kennedy was already rushing to the back of the apartment. She returned, moments later, popping the cap on a prescription bottle. “Here, I got some stuff,” she said, shaking two white pills into her palm. “It’s strong so it’ll probably knock you out in less than an hour.”

“Well, if that’s the case I don’t know how much help I’ll be staying over,” Deven teased.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Sis,” Kennedy said with a smirk, dumping the medicine into Deven’s hand. “It’ll be nice to have you over though. We haven’t had a sleepover since . . . hell I don’t remember when.”

“Probably kids.”

Kennedy retrieved Deven’s bottled water from the table and passed that to her as well. Appreciative, Deven knocked back the pills and chased it with the warm liquid.

“Do you need anything else?” Kennedy asked. “Pads or panties or something for the bleeding?”

“I didn’t know you wore panties.”

“Oh, you got jokes.” Kennedy led the way to her makeshift closet in her second bedroom and immediately began rummaging through a box she’d yet to unpack. Pulling out some sweats, a t-shirt, and sure enough an unopened pack of Victoria’s Secret cotton bikini panties, she handed them over. “There’s some products under the sink in the master bathroom,” she said. Deven nodded her thanks and headed to change.