Onika, a single mother, is desperate to find a cure for her daughter's mysterious illness. Just as hope fades, she meets Dr. Beyoncé Knowles, a determined doctor who refuses to give up.
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Onika Maraj Houston, TX December 8, 2024
I was in the bathroom doing my hair, with Amora sitting right beside me on her iPad. For some reason, she wouldn't leave my side.
I glanced down at her before wand-curling another piece of my hair and asked, "You good, baby?"
Amora nodded, saying, "Yes, Mommy," while she played her game.
I smiled and asked, "Why are you in here with me? Go sit on the bed and play."
She shook her head. "No, Mommy, I have to be with you."
I chuckled. "Why?"
Amora looked up, serious. "I have to make sure you're okay."
I couldn't help but smile at how sweet she was. "Mommy's okay, baby. Are you okay?"
She nodded again, but something felt off. I put the wand down and bent down in my dress to check her sensor. Her sugar was low. My heart sank.
"Baby, why didn't you say anything?" I scooped her up, and she laid her head on my shoulder.
"It's your birthday, Mommy," she said softly, and my heart broke. She's only five—she shouldn't have to worry about things like this.
I held her close. "I don't care about my birthday, I care about you, okay?"
We walked into the room, and Beyoncé came out of the closet, looking at us confused at first, but she understood once she saw me grabbing some candy from my bag.
I opened it and gave it to Amora. Beyoncé left and came back with juice for her.
"You okay, sweet girl?" Beyoncé asked, and Amora nodded, but my heart was hurting.
I sat Amora on the bed and grabbed Beyoncé's hand, pulling her into the closet.
She looked at me, concerned. "What's wrong, baby?"
I sighed, my chest tightening. "She was worried about me for my birthday, so she didn't tell me she wasn't feeling well. I-I don't like that."
I couldn't hold it in anymore and started crying. Beyoncé pulled me into her arms, rubbing my back. Thank God I hadn't done my makeup yet.
"Aww, baby, she just cares about you. It's gonna be okay," Beyoncé whispered, soothing me.
"I don't want her to feel like she's a burden to me," I said, my voice shaky.
Beyoncé wiped my tears, leaning down to kiss me. "She doesn't think that, baby. She just wants you to be happy on your day. Stop crying, pretty girl—you look good."
She gave me a playful smile, reaching behind to grab my ass.
