His Contract, Her heart

Chapter 2: The Night Everything Changed

The night it happened was supposed to be a celebration.

Their parents, Daniel and Claire Allen, had just marked twenty years of marriage. They reserved a table at their beloved Italian restaurant in the city, the same place where they had shared their very first date. Marie recalled how radiant her mother appeared in the picture she had sent earlier that evening: silver earrings reflecting the warm flicker of candlelight, her eyes crinkling with joy next to her father's proud grin. The message was straightforward: “Be good, girls. We’ll be home soon.”

She and fifteen-year-old Martha had spent their evening lounging on the couch, engrossed in a comedic show and munching on microwave popcorn. It was one of those secure, commonplace nights where the outside world felt irrelevant.

Until the phone rang.

Initially, Marie didn’t think much of it. However, when she noticed the caller ID displaying St. Vincent’s Emergency Department, her stomach churned into a chilling knot. “Hello?” she responded, her voice strained.

“Is this Marie Allen?” a woman inquired, her tone careful and measured. “Yes…” “I’m calling regarding your parents." There’s been an accident, and I regret to inform you that you and your sister must come to the hospital right away.”

The ride there felt like a haze, with the streets, traffic signals, and even the rain blurring against the windshield. Yet, nothing could obscure the words the doctor delivered upon their arrival: “Your parents’ vehicle was struck by a drunk driver who then fled the scene. They did not survive the collision.”

Martha collapsed against Marie, crying so intensely it shook her. Marie felt as if she were plummeting through a bottomless chasm, her ears buzzing, her legs struggling to support her. The only thing anchoring her was her sister's weight pressing against her.

The police officer told them that their parents were less than a mile from home when a driver sped through a red light and crashed into the driver's side of their car. Bystanders reported seeing the other vehicle veer off and vanish into the darkness.

The funeral took place a few days later, heavy with the fragrance of lilies and the muted murmurs of neighbors who were at a loss for words. Marie wore black, but she could hardly recall the service. All that stood out in her mind was Martha’s pale countenance beside her, eyes red and puffy from tears.

Afterward, their aunt proposed to take Martha in, but Marie turned it down. “She’s my sister,” she declared, her voice firm for the first time in days. “I’ll look after her.”

And she did. At nineteen, Marie found herself juggling night shifts at the diner, full-time nursing school, and the delicate task of preventing Martha’s world from collapsing entirely. She learned to stretch a dollar until it protested, to feign control when everything was falling apart, and to suppress her own sorrow so Martha wouldn’t be overwhelmed by hers.

From that moment on, existence morphed into a relentless struggle for survival. Yet, no matter how difficult it became, Marie held onto one pledge tightly in her heart, she would protect Martha at any price.