8
1014 Words
Maya’s POV
Aidan and Vanessa were away at their engagement party, so for the first time in days, I had a few hours to myself.
I didn’t waste them.
After getting permission from the head butler, I hurried to the hospital with the little money I had managed to save from my last job.
Every dollar mattered.
I had been putting aside as much as I could for Mom’s treatment, refusing to spend anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
As I sat on the bus, my mind drifted back to the incident with the broken bottle of Cheval Blanc.
My stomach tightened.
Even though Aidan hadn’t fired me, the fear hadn’t left.
It lingered like a shadow, reminding me that one mistake—or one lie from Vanessa—could cost me everything.
If I lost this job…
I squeezed my eyes shut.
No.
I couldn’t think like that.
Mom needed me. And I needed this job.
I just had to endure.
Endure Vanessa’s insults.
Endure her humiliation.
Endure every trap she set for me.
As long as I kept my job, none of it mattered.
At least that was what I kept telling myself.
By the time I reached the hospital, the familiar smell of antiseptic welcomed me.
Nurses hurried through the corridors, doctors pushed patients from one ward to another, and worried families sat outside the consultation rooms with hope and fear written across their faces.
I knew those expressions all too well.
I had worn them myself for months.
Taking a deep breath, I walked toward my mother’s ward.
When I pushed the door open, my heart sank.
Mom lay quietly on the hospital bed, her skin noticeably paler than the last time I had seen her.
Several machines surrounded her, their steady beeping filling the otherwise silent room.
A tube ran into her arm, delivering medication she desperately needed.
Another monitored her heartbeat.
She looked so small.
So fragile.
Nothing like the strong woman who had worked two jobs just to put food on our table while I was growing up.
My eyes burned.
I forced myself to smile anyway.
“Hi, Mom,” I whispered as I walked over to her.
Her eyes slowly opened.
The moment she saw me, a tired smile spread across her lips.
“My beautiful girl.”
She reached for my hand.
I quickly took it, careful not to disturb the tubes attached to her.
“You came.”
“Of course I did.”
“You should be working.”
“I had a few hours off.”
She studied my face for a moment before her smile faded.
“You’re crying.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“You’ve been crying.”
I instinctively touched my cheek.
“I haven’t.”
“Maya.”
That single word was enough to break me.
She had always known when something was wrong.
Even now.
Even from a hospital bed.
I looked away.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
She squeezed my fingers weakly.
“Tell me.” She said with a low voice.
I hesitated because the last thing I want is to dump all that’s happening on her.
I didn’t want to worry her.
She already had enough to deal with.
But the words spilled out anyway.
“I almost lost my job.” I said.
Her brows furrowed. She knew about how I lost my job at the café and had tried to comfort me then. I told her I got a new job as a maid and she was excited for me.
“What happened?” She asked, concerned.
“I broke something expensive.” I said.
I left out the part about Vanessa.
There was no point telling her about how Vanessa is a thorn in my flesh.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I whispered. “But I couldn’t prove it.”
Mom was quiet for a long moment.
Then she smiled gently.
“You know what your father used to tell me?”
I shook my head.
“He used to say that storms never last forever. They only feel endless when you’re standing in the rain.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“I miss him.”
“I know. I miss him too.”
She lifted her trembling hand and brushed the tear away from my face.
“You’ve carried too much for someone your age.”
“I’m alright.”
“I know you are.”
Her voice softened.
“But don’t lose yourself while trying to save me.”
I lowered my head.
“You’re all I have, Mom.”
“And you’re all I have.”
Silence settled between us.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
Just heavy.
I rested my head gently against the side of her bed, holding her hand as if letting go would somehow make her disappear.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door.
A doctor stepped inside with a clipboard tucked beneath his arm.
His expression was serious.
Far too serious.
“Miss Rivers,” he said quietly.
“I need to speak with you.”
My heart immediately began to race. I followed him out of the room and into his office.
“Is… is something wrong?”
The doctor looked at his chart before answering me. “I’m afraid her condition has worsened.”
The words stole the air from my lungs.
“We’ve done everything we can with her current treatment,” he continued. “But if we don’t begin the next phase immediately…”
He paused.
Then lowered his voice.
“…I’m not sure how much longer your mother has.”
The room spun around me.
I tightened my grip on my purse, praying I heard him wrong. But judging by the pity in his eyes…
I hadn’t.
“What’s the next phase?” I asked.
“A heart transplant.” The doctor said firmly.
I felt my heart jump out of my chest.
How on earth am I going to afford that?
- Writer
