A Mother's Love.

The morning sun painted the penthouse walls with a soft glow, filtered through elegant, transparent red curtains that danced with the gentle breeze. The room bore witness to sophistication, its walls adorned with white paint and an array of paintings. On the opposite side of the expansive windows, a well-equipped kitchen gleamed with cutlery and dishes, awaiting the day's activities.

In the living room, the ambiance was vibrant. Plush cushions and couches surrounded a large 75-inch Smart TV, a centerpiece of the room. However, the tranquility of the space was shattered by the presence of a woman sprawled on the largest couch. Oprah lay there, her body bearing the marks of a harrowing night, evident in the bruises and cuts that adorned her.

The voice that cut through the morning belonged to Fiona, emanating from the inviting warmth of the kitchen. "Oprah! Come. You have to eat; we have a big day today."