Daunting Dream

Chapter 10.

Chapter 10: Terrific Trauma.

Dream Dauntson.

It was a beautiful Tuesday morning. The sky was that perfect shade of blue that makes you think, today is going to be a good day. Lies. Absolute lies.

I walked hand-in-hand with my adopted daughter, Doreen Diora Dauntson—my precious Dorey—to school. She had her little unicorn backpack bouncing with each step, her curls dancing in the sunlight. Each little bounce, each curl catching the light, made me think, How did I get so lucky to have her? I smiled, letting myself feel calm before the storm.

"Mummy, will you bake the strawberry cupcakes with extra sprinkles today?" she asked, her signature hopeful eyes wide and sparkling like tiny diamonds.

I bent down and kissed her cheek. "Only if you promise to be my good girl and not fight over crayons again."

She giggled, a sound so pure it made me forget the world for a heartbeat. "Deal!"

We hugged at the school gate. I kissed her forehead, waved her off, and made my way back to the bakery. Life was sweet. Or so I thought. Every step back to the bakery was filled with a fleeting sense of normalcy—my heart light, my thoughts hovering around icing tips and sprinkling techniques.

Back at the bakery, I tied my apron like a champion gladiator ready for battle. Cupcakes. Flour flew, mixers spun, and the smell of vanilla filled the air like it had been infused into the very atmosphere. I was halfway through icing a batch of red velvet when my phone rang.

Unknown number.

My stomach twisted.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Ma'am. This is Miss Jane, Doreen's class teacher. I'm calling from her school."

My heart skipped several beats. Teacher calling this early? Not to say good morning…

"Yes? What is it?" I asked, trying to stay calm, but my voice quivered slightly.

"We were in class doing some light exercises when Doreen suddenly fainted."

My brain froze.

"Fainted?! What?! Where is she now?!"

"We've rushed her to St. Peters Hospital."

I didn’t wait to hear more. Panic fueled my limbs like fire in my veins. "I’m on my way!"

I dropped the piping bag. Flour scattered across the floor like tiny white clouds of doom. I ripped off my apron, grabbed my bag, and bolted like a madwoman who had just realized the world was on fire. Mid-run, I made a group call to the only two people who had a sliver of sense left in my chaotic life.

"Hello, baby!" Leo and Lucinda greeted in unison.

"I'm panicking!" I yelled, nearly running into a delivery truck. My vision blurred; my mind raced through worst-case scenarios faster than a blender on max speed.

"What is going on?!" Lucinda demanded. My Lucy. Always direct. Always painfully competent when I was falling apart.

"It’s Dorey. She’s in the hospital!"

"What the hell?!" Leo shrieked.

"She collapsed during class. They rushed her to St. Peters. I’m on my way."

"We're coming too!" they chorused.

I hung up, locked the bakery with trembling fingers, and raced to the hospital. Every red light felt like an eternity. Every honk felt like the universe mocking me.

---

At St. Peters Hospital

The sterile scent hit me like a wall. My stomach churned, my chest tightened. I dashed to the front desk, my heels clicking erratically against the tiles.

"My daughter! I'm here to see my daughter!" My voice cracked like a whip.

"Name?" the nurse asked calmly, her composure making me feel like I was screaming into a hurricane.

"Doreen Diora Dauntson. Four years old."

Click-clack on the keyboard. A moment of eternity passed.

"Ward 4. The doctor is attending to her."

I didn’t wait. I barged into Ward 4 like a hurricane of panic, not caring who or what I bulldozed on my way.

"Ma'am!" The doctor looked startled, a professional expression cracking ever so slightly.

"I’m Dream Davina Dauntson. Her mother."

"Hi, Mrs. Dauntson."

"Miss Dauntson," I corrected, still panting like I had run a marathon in stilettos.

He nodded. "Miss, can we speak in my office?"

I followed like a sleep-deprived zombie, heart hammering so loud I thought everyone in the hospital could hear it.

"Please, sit."

I did, bracing myself as if I were about to face a firing squad.

"We ran immediate tests. When she was brought in, she had difficulty breathing. I suspected something serious. It turns out Doreen has a critical lung disease."

I blinked. My soul left my body. It floated above me for a moment, observing my hands tremble and my knees wobble.

"Both lungs are damaged. She needs surgery. Urgently."

"How much?" I whispered, voice hoarse.

He hesitated. "25 million dollars."

"WHAAAAAT?!" I stood up so fast the chair screeched in protest.

"It’s a delicate procedure. We’ll need specialists. Equipment. Time."

"I don't have that kind of money!" My words sounded small even to me, lost in the vast white walls of the hospital.

He sighed. "You have to raise it. Fast. The sooner, the better."

I stumbled out of the office, my body trembling. And the second I saw Lucy, I collapsed into her arms like a discarded rag doll.

"It’s bad. Lucy, it's really bad," I sobbed, letting everything—fear, panic, guilt—pour out of me. "She needs surgery. I can’t... I don’t have the money. I can’t lose her!"

My breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred. Panic clawed up my chest, stealing rational thought.

"She’s having a panic attack!" Leo yelled, practically vibrating in panic himself.

"Dream, breathe with me. In... and out," Lucy coached, holding my cheeks. I followed half-heartedly, barely aware of the world beyond my child’s life slipping through my fingers.

"I can't. I can't!" I screamed internally, feeling like the world had collapsed in on me.

Then, chaos escalated, in ways my fragile mind could hardly process.

---

At Drawson Enterprise – Devon Drawson’s POV

I was knee-deep in reports when the knock came.

"Come in."

Leo walked in, looking like a guilty puppy who had accidentally eaten the boss’s paycheck.

"Yes?"

"Sir, I need to leave. Family emergency. I’ll be back in two hours."

I frowned, eyebrows knitting. "What happened?"

"I can’t say."

"Then I can’t approve it."

He bit his lip, then said softly, almost apologetically, "It’s Dream’s daughter. Doreen. She fainted. She’s at St. Peters."

My pen dropped. My chair scraped loudly against the floor. Instantly, adrenaline took over.

"I’m coming with you."

Leo blinked. "Sir?"

"Did I stutter, Leopard?"

"No, sir."

---

St. Peters Hospital

We walked in just in time to see Lucinda cradling Dream like a child. Dream looked... broken. Not her usual firecracker self. Her fire had dimmed, and her trembling fingers betrayed a fear I knew all too well.

Leo asked, "What’s going on?"

Lucinda looked up, tears glimmering in her eyes. "Dorey has lungs disease. She needs urgent surgery."

"How much?" I asked, stepping forward, voice low but steady, feeling the weight of the responsibility settled on my shoulders.

"25 million dollars."

Leo whistled softly. "We’re doomed."

Dream turned. Her eyes met mine—red, swollen, furious, yet pleading.

"You?!" she whispered, shock and exasperation lacing every syllable.

"I came to help," I said softly, voice firm but gentle.

"Help? Is this your idea of a joke?!"

"I mean it. I want to help."

She stood shakily, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Don’t you dare pity me!"

"I don’t. I... admire you."

She blinked.

"What?"

"You fight. For her. For everything. Let me fight with you."

She laughed bitterly, a sound that broke my heart in two. "This is a terrific trauma, and now you want to waltz in with your cape like some discount superhero?!"

I stepped closer. "I’ll pay the 25 million. But I need something in return."

The world went still.

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you want?"

"Marry me."

I watched her crumble in her best friend’s arms, and something inside me split. I remembered when I was seven, gasping for breath while my mother sobbed into a nurse’s uniform. I survived. Maybe Dorey would too—but only if someone fought for her. So I did the only thing I could do.

Gasps. Silence. Chaos.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

"Maybe. But I want you. Not just because of this. Because... you make everything real."

She stared at me. "So my daughter’s illness is now your bargaining chip?!"

"I hated him. I hated this moment. I hated the universe for putting me here. But I loved her. More than anything. If I had to marry the devil to keep her breathing, I'd do it in white lace and heels."

"No. But this opened my eyes. And maybe your daughter... is the blessing we both needed."

Dream looked torn between slapping me and crying again.

Lucy whispered, "I say slap him after the cheque clears."

Leo nodded. "Seconded."

Dream looked at me, then at her trembling hands.

"I don’t trust you."

"Then start by trusting this: I will never let her die."

She exhaled, shoulders shaking, eyes glossy with tears.

"Terrific trauma indeed," I muttered.

In the corner of the hospital room, Fate grinned. She was just getting started.