Margaret Harrington's POV
The same night.
I lay in my large bed, propped up against several pillows. My chest felt tight, and a harsh cough tore through me again.
The nurse beside me quickly handed me a glass of water and adjusted the oxygen tube near my nose. I took small sips, trying to steady my breathing.
The illness had been getting worse these past weeks, spreading faster than the doctors had expected.
The door opened. Tyrone walked in quickly, his face serious. He rushed to my bedside, pulling a chair closer and sitting down. His hand rested gently on the edge of the bed near mine.
“Boss....Margaret,” he said, voice low with concern. “How are you feeling tonight?”
I managed a weak smile before another cough hit. The nurse stepped back a little to give us space. “I’ve had be
