01
1311 Words
AURORA
I never planned to be at the gallery that late, but the new canvas shipment arrived right before sunset. I didn’t want Aunt Lila lifting anything heavy, and Grace, my best friend, had already gone home to rest, so I stayed behind to unpack everything myself. The place smelled like fresh paint and the quiet of Willow Creek made the air feel almost soft. It was supposed to be a peaceful night.
Then just as sudden, I heard a loud sound.
A loud crash echoed through the still street. My whole body jolted as I dropped the roll of canvas I was holding and ran outside. At first, I didn’t even see the car. Everything looked normal, but then my eyes caught a glint of crushed silver near the bend.
My heart slammed in my chest.
“Oh no…” I whispered.
The street was deserted, not even a single person walking home. That was Willow Creek — quiet when you needed noise the most. My legs moved before my brain caught up and I rushed toward the wrecked car, ignoring the sting in my ankle where I had twisted it earlier.
The front of the vehicle was smashed into a street pole, steam rising from the engine. A man was inside, leaning forward, his dark hair falling over his forehead. He was groaning, barely conscious.
“Sir?” My voice shook. “Can you hear me?”
His eyelids fluttered. I couldn’t see much of his face through the shadows, but blood was running down the side of his forehead and fear immediately squeezed my lungs.
I tried the door. It was jammed. I pulled harder, bracing one foot against the car. The pain shot through my ankle again, but I ignored it. Finally, with one loud c***k, the door gave way.
“Please… stay with me,” I said as I reached inside.
His hand lifted weakly and grabbed my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong for someone so hurt. He didn’t look at me, but he held on like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
“I’m going to take you to the hospital,” I said. “There’s no one around. I can’t wait for an ambulance.”
He didn’t answer, just breathed in short, painful sounds.
I dragged him out of the vehicle carefully, trying not to make his injuries worse. By the time I got him into Aunt Lila’s old car, my arms were shaking. He didn’t let go of me the whole drive, his hand curled around my fingers.
When we reached the hospital, nurses rushed toward us. They took him from my arms and placed him on a stretcher. But even then, his hand held tightly to mine.
“Sir, we need to take you in for surgery,” a nurse said gently.
His lips parted. “Don’t… leave.”
“I’m right here,” I whispered.
They rolled him toward the emergency doors, and only when he passed through them did the nurse finally free my hand. I stood there, dizzy and shaking. The bright hospital lights blurred around me.
“Ma’am, are you hurt?” another nurse asked.
“I… I think I twisted my ankle,” I said, and suddenly my voice shaky. Everything hit at once—the crash, the fear, his blood on my sleeve. “And I… I don’t know. I think I’m just scared.”
She helped me sit, brought water, cleaned the cut on my arm I didn’t even realize I had. By the time I calmed down, my clothes were stained and my hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
Then another nurse approached with wide eyes.
“Miss, do you know who you brought in?”
“No,” I said. “Should I?”
“That was Nathaniel Vale.”
I blinked. The name didn’t register at first.
She leaned closer. “Billionaire Nathaniel Vale. The heir to Vale Corporation.”
My stomach dropped. I thought she was joking. But the nurse’s expression was too serious.
“Oh,” I breathed. “I didn’t know.”
Things got worse quickly. A group of people rushed into the hallway, security, assistants, and then a woman who walked with the confidence of a queen.
Her cold eyes landed on me at once.
“You’re the girl who found my son?” she asked sharply.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
Eleanor Vale, I guess that was his mother, she looked me up and down like I was dirt on her designer heels. Then she opened her bag, pulled out an envelope, and thrust it toward me.
“Take this. And leave.”
I stared at the envelope. “What is it?”
“Money,” she said bluntly. “You did your part. Don’t pretend you didn’t expect payment.”
Heat flared in my face. “I didn’t save him for money.”
Her expression sharpened. “Everyone wants something from us. Don’t lie.”
“I don’t want anything,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “I just wanted to help.”
She scoffed. “And now you want to act noble?”
I stepped back. The insult stung more.
“Keep your money,” I said, turning away.
“No one refuses my offers,” she snapped.
“Well,” I whispered, “I just did.”
I walked out of the hospital before she could say anything else.
*
The next morning, Willow Creek was already buzzing. Everyone was talking about the “mysterious crash” involving the billionaire heir. I tried to ignore it while sweeping the gallery floor, but Grace burst through the door holding her coffee tight.
“Aurora Hayes!” she shouted. “You saved Nathaniel Vale?!”
I winced. “How do you know already?”
“It’s everywhere!” she said, throwing her hands up. “And you refused the money?! Aurora, we are broke.”
“His mother insulted me,” I muttered.
Grace stared at me. “Money doesn’t insult. It pays bills.”
I shook my head and kept sweeping. “I don’t want anything from that family.”
She groaned dramatically. “We owe three months of rent, and you’re out here rejecting envelopes full of billionaire cash.”
Before I could reply, the back door opened.
Aunt Lila stood there, her face pale.
“You went to the Vales?” Her voice trembled slightly.
“Aunt Lila, it was an accident….”
“No.” She stepped forward quickly. “You must stay away from that family. Aurora, promise me.”
Her tone was too sharp and almost too scared which made me frown.
“Why? Do you know them?” I asked.
She froze. Just for a second.
“I just know trouble when I see it,” she said. “Promise me.”
“I’ll keep my distance,” I said, although something felt wrong. Aunt Lila’s panic wasn’t normal.
Grace nudged me and mouthed, We’re talking about that later.
But we didn’t get the chance.
The front door slammed open so hard the bells rattled. A furious man marched inside holding a clipboard.
“There she is!” he shouted.
We all turned.
It was our supplier.
“You owe me three months of overdue payment,” he said, waving the invoice at Lila. “I want my money today.”
Lila rushed to him. “Please, Mr. Herdman, we just need a few more days…”
“No more days!” he snapped. “I’m tired of excuses!”
Grace and I stood frozen, helpless. The whole gallery felt small under his anger.
“I need full payment,” he said, “or I cut you off permanently.”
Lila’s voice shook. “Please… just a little more time.”
But he didn’t soften.
- Writer
