Destiny's Edge

Desperation

Noon, at Tom’s Diner.

A line of customers stretched out the door, their overlapping voices blending into a chaotic chorus of orders. Five waiters weaved swiftly between tables and the kitchen, while the plates piled up in the sink like a miniature skyscraper.

Grace worked relentlessly, scrubbing plate after plate with all the strength she could muster. But no matter how fast she moved, the mountain of dishes only grew taller.

Dirty water splashed onto her skirt. Her hands had gone raw and coarse from the constant scrubbing. Her back and neck screamed in protest from hours bent over the sink, yet she remained silent, never pausing, never complaining.

The only consolation was Mary.

Despite her battle with leukemia, the little girl understood her mother’s hardship. She sat quietly in a chair nearby, pale and exhausted, doing her best not to disturb Grace.

Tom’s Diner was popular. In this age of economic collapse, an affordable and tasty meal was worth its weight in gold—and people knew it.

That popularity, however, had one consequence:

Grace washed dishes non-stop for three hours before the lunch rush finally ended.

She didn’t even have a second to rest.

Grace peeled off her rubber gloves, flexing her red, aching fingers. Her legs felt heavy, sore from standing for hours—but she didn’t stop. Instead, she turned immediately to check on her daughter.

“Mom… I’m so hot,” Mary murmured, her eyes barely open.

Grace reached out and touched her daughter’s forehead—and froze in horror.

“You’re burning up! Oh God, you’re burning up!”

The fever was blazing. It had to be that night’s freezing rain.

A wave of panic surged through Grace.

“Oh God, what have I done? How did I not notice until now…”

Without wasting another second, she scooped Mary into her arms, ready to bolt to the hospital—

—but collided headfirst into a broad, solid chest.

“Seems like something’s wrong. Is there anything I can help with?” Tom asked, his deep voice calm.

But just looking up at that tall frame made Grace recoil. Her body stiffened, and her mouth refused to form words. The memory of Richard—the violence, the pain—rose like a phantom behind her eyes.

The clamor in the kitchen drew Elsa in. She took one look at Mary and gently placed a hand on the child’s burning cheek.

“She’s got a fever. She needs to cool down right away,” Elsa said, frowning. “I have some meds with me, but for a child this young… it’s safer to go to the hospital.”

“Yes, I’m taking her right now.” Grace turned to Tom, hesitating for a moment before continuing in a soft, apologetic voice.

“…Would it be possible… to get today’s pay in advance?”

She knew it wasn’t appropriate. Their wages were supposed to be paid weekly. But Mary needed help—now.

Tom paused, then nodded. “Let me see… Based on your hours, that’s about $100. But I’ve been watching your work—you’ve done more than your share. As the boss, I’ll give you $600 up front. Consider it an advance on the next few days.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much for your generosity.”

Grace took the money, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions.

Gratitude. Unease. Relief. Suspicion.

Tom’s unexpected kindness unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

On one hand, Tom reminded Grace painfully of her ex-husband—the strong, muscular build, the powerful presence. That similarity in appearance constantly brought back memories of her cruel ex.

Though she knew deep down that the pain and a***e came from Richard alone, not Tom, she couldn’t help but feel an involuntary aversion to men who looked like him.

On the other hand, based on her interactions so far, Tom was genuinely a good man—both as a boss and as a friend.

“The situation is urgent. I’ll drive you. The sooner your child gets treatment, the sooner she’ll recover.”

Grace wanted to refuse. She hated burdening others. But Tom didn’t give her a chance to say no. He already turned to grab the car keys and started the engine.

“Go ahead, Grace. Your daughter must be feeling terrible right now,” Elsa said with a pained look, understanding all too well the hardship of raising a child alone.

…………………………

Tom was driving an old SUV, silent throughout the ride, his body tense as he pressed the accelerator to the floor—cutting what should have been a fifteen-minute drive down to ten.

The silence in the car created a strange atmosphere. Grace wanted to say thank you but never found the right moment to speak.

Finally, they arrived at the city’s largest hospital.

Tom tried to get out of the car with her, but Grace stopped him.

“Thank you. You’ve already done more than enough. I can handle the rest—trust me.”

“Alright, but if you run into any trouble, contact me. I don’t want to lose a good employee I just hired.”

Grace nodded, then carried Mary inside through the emergency entrance. After registering, she was introduced to the doctor.

The doctor had striking golden hair and matching golden eyes—a rare and handsome appearance.

ChatGPT *：

“Has she been caught in the rain recently?” the doctor asked after examining Mary.

“Yes, that day…” Grace began to reply but was interrupted.

“Okay, careless parents, I see this all the time. She’s very young, and with the complications from leukemia, many medications can’t be used. She needs surgery immediately. You’ll have to pay a $5,000 deposit before we can proceed.”

“Why? Sorry, I’m not questioning you, but I don’t have that much money right now. Isn’t saving the patient supposed to come first?”

The doctor gave Grace a pointed look. “Financial difficulties matter to the hospital just as much.”

“Alright, I purchased commercial medical insurance for my child earlier. According to the contract, they should send a guarantee letter or advance the payment to the hospital. That should work, right?”

“Of course, no problem. Go ahead.”

Grace stepped into the hospital corridor alone and made a call.

“Hello, this is Grace. Here’s the situation…” She explained everything, ending with her request: “So please send a guarantee letter or advance the payment.”

“Oh, ma’am, I’d be happy to help you, especially someone as beautiful as you. Just sleep with me for a week.”

The voice on the other end revealed its malicious intent without any disguise.

“What? What did you say?”

“Sleep with me for a week. If you want to save your child, that is. Otherwise… oh, ma’am, if you don’t want to see your child die, you’d better do as I say.”

Grace felt a wave of fury so intense it nearly made her dizzy. In a world where the desperate suffer, there are those rare few who offer a helping hand—but far more who choose to kick someone when they’re already down.