The days blurred into one as Katrina made the taupe her resting spot. The flashes of sunlight that shifted to the moon's glow were the only way she marked the passing of time. Dings and beeps dictated her moods. Pacing the length of a room became exercise and a stress reliever. A level of stress that caused some concern to the frequent visitors in their lab coats and scrubs. Their insistent pleas that she'd vacant the vicinity to a place with more serenity just upset her more. She knew what she could handle and she knew the hospital room was where she needed to be. Not just for her but for Imani.

Imani wasn't just the close friend she had brunch with on Sundays or chatted with during breaks. She was the sister she always wanted. The one person that had her back and the person that gave her the brutal truth when others would sugarcoat the facts. Yes, she'd love to submerge herself in a ylang-ylang milk bath with the soulful serenade of neo-soul in the comfort of her home but that wasn't where she was needed.

It had been three days that felt like a century; worry, anxiety, and fear gave her the jolt that caffeine couldn't. IVs, vials, liquid-filled clear bags, and scans claimed her focus as well as holding Imani's hand as the nurse pierced her flesh for the umpteenth time in their best effort to keep her residing in the same dimension as theirs. It was a valiant feat that started to bear results on the fourth night and by the sixth night Katrina was finally able to allow her lungs to fill with a full capacity of oxygen.

"Home sweet home!" Katrina drove Imani's key into the lock as unsteady on her feet Imani stood beside her holding her head for balance. "What do you want to do first?"

"Ah..." Imani started tilting her head to the side as if formulating thoughts was too taxing for her body. "Sit down."

"Well, that's what we're going to do, girlie." Katrina let the door shut behind them. She dropped the plastic hospital bags that held all the things they accumulated during the hospital stay, doctor notes, and prescription meds. She led her frail friend to the muted yellow sofa that was the place she learned her journey with Imani would come with moments like that one she just lived. It was where she gathered the knowledge of what a flare-up was and the severity it could wreak on one's life.

Lupus was a beast and her friend was trying to train it to be a domesticated being and sometimes it rebelled. 

Katrina smiled faintly, the facade was getting hard to maintain as her energy waned. Once she successfully lowered Imani onto the sofa, she maneuvered her tired body to the other side with an audible breath.

"What do you want to eat?" She inquired propping her swallowing feet on the coffee table.

"Pho." Imani breathed out with her phone in her hand looking not like herself. Wig free and vacant of the glow that usually accompanied her mahogany dermis. Having your immune system attack your blood cells would do that to you. "Smothered something with a massive container of Miss Irene's mac and cheese."

"And her a dozen of those red velvet cupcakes."

"Yes."

Their laughter mingled filling the room with a sound that it hadn't known for almost a week. Katrina completed the order and replied to the text from Keir and Terrence then placed her phone on the pillow that was set between her and Imani.

She studied the faraway eyes her friend peered out the window staring at the star-filled sky. Two blood transfusions and a treatment meant for cancer patients was the ticket that granted her discharge papers.

"I thought—"

"Don't." Katrina urged.

She knew what Imani was going to say and she didn't want that energy to be let free in the atmosphere for fear that it would multiply in magnitude and become a reality.

"All you have to do is avoid children and people that don't cover their mouth when they sneeze or cough; avoid people that spread germs."

Imani chuckled, tears still in the wells of her eyes. "How am I going to do that? I'm about to be an auntie?"

"Oh, no" She started, stroking her belly which had grown an inch in width since the ordeal. "My baby girl isn't going to be a super-spreader."

"Your what?" Imani's back sprung off the sofa as if her words gave her an extra dose of vigor.

"Huh." Katrina's hand froze at the top of her bump as her eyes went to the vibrant verdant plants meticulously placed around the bookshelves and statement artwork in front of her. "Noah did a great job. I don't see any brown leaves. No water spills. You know they say if a man can keep a plant alive then—"

"Bitch." Imani playfully tossed the pillow at Katrina. "Don't play."

Katrina watched the pillow careen to the floor. "Fine. I wasn't planning on saying anything until I told Terrence but then..." They both nodded knowing what had occupied all their attention. "Another daughter."

Imani reached over the couch and held her free hand during the silence that fell between them after the last statement.

"She's going to make it." Imani kissed her friend's hand as tears rolled down Katrina's face. Learning the sex of her baby wasn't that important; it was knowing that she had a steady and strong heartbeat that made her squeal with glee because her baby girl before her current one didn't make it past the second trimester. "Which is why even though I love it that you're here for me, I need you to rest." Imani set her other hand on Katrina's belly, still donning the bandage placed upon it after the IV was removed. It was as close to the miracle of life as she was going to get. Childbearing was not in the cards for her and it was a bittersweet realization but her life held greatness without it and she was firm in her decision to cherish the life she had.

Imani continued. "For yourself and my niece."

Katrina tsked, "For the next three days, I'm not doing shit."

They both laughed and then Imani added, "Me too, bitch."

They turned on the small TV that was situated in the corner not claimed by a bookshelf or plant and watched a rerun of a classic black sitcom and nodded off until the knock on the door roused them. As they ate the takeout and laughed at Nikki and Kim Parker, Katrina tried to forget about the five-letter word that brought despair with the promise of a four-letter word that gave excitement.

What do you think the five-letter word that brings despair is?

What do you think the four-letter word is?