CHAPTER THREE
1479 Words
The soft rustle of the hospital door opening barely stirred Peach, but Flint's hurried steps did. He paused just inside the room, taking in the somber scene: Feather's frail body connected to machines that hummed steadily, the other three quadruplets curled awkwardly together on the small bed, their faces etched with worry even in sleep.
Peach’s head rested on the bedside, her disheveled hair spilling over the edge, and her fingers clung tightly to Feather’s wrist as if afraid to let go. The pale morning light highlighted the weariness etched into her features.
Flint hesitated, his heart sinking at the sight of the family fractured by fear. “Peach,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but soft enough not to wake the children.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she sat up slowly, her movements stiff from hours in the same position. She blinked at him, momentarily dazed, before reality came crashing back. Her grip on Feather’s wrist tightened reflexively. “Flint…”
“I heard. Is she—” His voice faltered, and he glanced at the machines as though they could answer for her.
“She’s still here,” Peach murmured, her voice raw and exhausted. “Barely... but she’s still here.”
Flint approached, his gaze locked on Feather’s pale face. The once vibrant little girl looked so small, so fragile. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead, his hand trembling. “I should’ve been here sooner.”
Peach shook her head, her eyes glistening. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. The doctor… he said she needs surgery. To close the hole in her septum.”
Flint swallowed hard, his throat tight. “Surgery?”
Peach nodded, her voice breaking. “It’s the only way to save her, Flint. But... she’s so weak. I don’t know if she can take it.”
He sank onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. “She has to,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Peach. “She’s strong, Peach. She’s a fighter.”
Peach let out a shaky breath, tears spilling over despite her attempts to hold them back. “I keep telling myself that, but every time I look at her… I’m so scared, Flint. What if we lose her?”
Flint leaned forward, taking her hand in his. His grip was firm, grounding her in a way only he could. “We won’t. We can’t. Feather’s got all of us, Peach. She’s not fighting this alone.”
Peach nodded, her tears falling silently as Flint pulled her into a tight embrace. For a moment, the room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors and Peach's quiet sobs.
But the weight of reality hung heavy over her. Where would she get the $5,000 needed for Feather’s surgery? She didn’t want to burden Flint with that part, not when the urgency of the situation left little time for options.
The quiet moment was shattered when Peach's phone buzzed on the bedside table, jolting even Tether awake. She quickly snatched it, her heart pounding as she saw the unknown number flashing on the screen.
“Hello?” she answered hesitantly, her voice still thick with fatigue.
A polite yet firm voice came through. “Hello, am I speaking with Peach Shenaya? I’m calling from Élan Affaires.”
Peach’s weary mind jolted with recognition. That name was seared into her memory—it was her new workplace, the very job that had marked the beginning of her misery.
“Yes, this is Peach—” she began, but the voice on the other end cut her off.
“Miss Shenaya, your attention is required urgently at the company. Please come as soon as you can. Thank you.”
Peach’s brows knitted in confusion as she stammered, “I’m sorry, is there a problem—”
Before she could finish, the line went dead.
Her mouth hung open in surprise as she lowered the phone, her thoughts racing. Flint’s watchful eyes lingered on her. “Is everything okay?” he asked, concern thick in his tone.
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to shake off her thoughts. “Uh… it’s nothing. Just work. They need me urgently.”
Flint frowned but didn’t press further, though his gaze remained heavy on her as she rose from her chair, glancing once more at Feather’s frail form before steeling herself.
Whatever awaited her at Élan Affaires, it couldn’t be more daunting than the fight for her daughter’s life. Plus, she couldn’t afford to lose her new job before it even started.
She turned to Flint, her voice softening as she tried to mask the turmoil within. “I don’t know if you’d be willing to babysit my kids for me. This will be the last time, I promise. I’ll hasten my search for a na—”
Flint cut her off before she could finish, almost as though he had anticipated it. “I’ll take care of the kids for you. Anytime, Peach. Don’t worry. Just go ahead—your job needs you.”
Before Peach could turn away, his voice followed her with a warmth that steadied her shaky resolve. “You’ve got this, Peach!”
She froze momentarily, his words washing over her like a balm. Offering him a fleeting, grateful smile, she nodded and stepped out.
~~~
Half an hour of frantic haste brought Peach to her workplace, dressed impeccably in professional attire. She barely paused to catch her breath before stepping up to the receptionist, who directed her without delay.
“Miss Ellen is expecting you. Head straight to her office,” the receptionist said curtly.
Peach nodded, suppressing her unease, and made her way through the sleek hallways. When she entered Miss Ellen's office, the woman wasted no time getting to the point.
“Peach Shenaya,” Miss Ellen began, her voice steady but with a touch of urgency. “I hate to put you in this position, but I have no other options. You’re perfect for this. You’re beautiful, you’re young, you’re new—exactly what we need right now. So, will you…?”
Her voice trailed off, softening unusually as she stepped closer—too close—until only inches separated them. The intensity of her approach left Peach's mind spinning with questions.
Was Miss Ellen into her?
What could she possibly need so urgently that she was acting like this? Why couldn’t someone else do it?
Peach instinctively leaned back, putting a small but deliberate distance between them, careful not to appear disrespectful. “I’m sorry, Miss Ellen, but I’m confused. I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
Miss Ellen closed the gap again, her tone turning desperate. “Peach, I need you to replace a bride at the altar.”
The words hit Peach like a slap. Her lips parted in shock, and a sharp gasp escaped before she could stifle it.
Miss Ellen quickly placed a finger to her lips, her eyes darting toward the door. “The whole world doesn’t need to know, Peach. Just you, me, and Dlon. The wedding is already in progress, and the groom… he doesn’t know his bride is missing yet.”
Peach’s chest tightened. Her mind churned with the chaos of her own life. Feather’s surgery. Her other kids under Flint’s care. The hospital bills looming like a dark cloud. And now, this? It was absurd, impossible, and wholly unwelcome.
“I’m sorry, Miss Ellen,” Peach said firmly, her voice trembling with conviction. “I can’t do it. I don’t have the heart to walk into someone else’s wedding and pretend to be who I’m not. What if the groom finds out?”
“That’s the thing, Peach—he won’t,” Miss Ellen pressed, her voice tinged with desperation. “How could he? Will you tell him? No. We’ll cover it up, and his real bride will be here soon. This isn’t just about you or me. This is about saving the biggest deal this company has ever had. And it’s not for free. If you do this, there’s a generous reward—a raise, even. This could change everything for you. Please, Peach. Do it for the company. Do it for yourself, your kids… I see you have a lot of them.” Her eyes flickered.
The promise of money and a raise hung in the air, a tempting but dangerous bait. Peach’s thoughts warred within her. The surgery money… the reward could mean saving Feather’s life. But the cost of walking into someone else's life, even temporarily, felt immeasurable.
Miss Ellen’s gaze stayed locked on hers, expectant, pleading. Peach’s decision teetered on the edge of chaos and morality.
Ignoring the immense guilt washing over her, Peach declared, “I’ll try my best, Miss Ellen.”
- Writer
