CHAPTER 1: FATE
1375 Words
Present day
(New York City)
(Ayla’s POV)
The shrill cry of my alarm clock pierced through the most incredible dream I’d ever had.
I groaned and rolled over, my hand fumbling blindly across the nightstand until I finally managed to silence the noise.
My eyes felt heavy, like lead, as I checked the time.
7:30 a.m.
Great.
Five more minutes, I told myself, burrowing deeper into the warmth of my blanket.
Then I remembered.
"Oh my god!" I shot upright, my heart leaping into my throat. "Hillcrest!"
The interview was at 8:00, and I hadn’t even showered yet.
I flew out of bed, my feet tangling in the sheets.
"Come on, Ayla," I muttered, stumbling toward the bathroom. "You can do this. You've prepared for weeks."
The hot water helped clear the fog from my brain, but I couldn’t shake the lingering images from my dream.
I shook my head vigorously, sending water droplets flying.
"Focus," I told myself sternly. "Dreams won’t pay Dad’s medical bills."
This was my chance, maybe my only chance to land the job that could change everything for my family.
The position at Hillcrest Company wasn’t just any job.
It was the opportunity I’d been dreaming of since graduating with my degree in Ancient History and Archaeology.
I threw on my best business suit, a navy blue ensemble I’d bought secondhand and had tailored to fit perfectly.
I stumbled out of the house with my now cold coffee in hand as I flagged down a cab.
"Hillcrest tower." I said as soon as I got in.
The ride to Hillcrest’s downtown headquarters felt like it lasted forever.
My palms were sweating as I walked through the gleaming glass doors, my heels clicking against the marble floor.
The receptionist, a woman with perfectly styled silver hair, smiled warmly at me.
"Ms. Marco? They’re ready for you in Conference Room A."
My heart hammered against my ribs as I followed her down a corridor lined with expensive artwork.
The conference room was intimidating—dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a breathtaking view of the city skyline.
Three people sat at the far end of a massive table: two men in expensive suits and a woman with intelligent eyes and a kind smile.
"Please, have a seat," the woman said, gesturing to a chair across from them. "I'm Margaret Hart, and these are my colleagues, Dr. Harrison and Mr. Anthony."
I smoothed my skirt and sat down.
"Thank you for this opportunity. I’m very excited to be here."
"We’ve reviewed your academic credentials," Dr. Harrison said, adjusting his glasses. "Very impressive. But we’re looking for someone with a particular gift—the ability to truly connect with ancient artifacts in a way that goes beyond mere historical knowledge."
My pulse quickened.
"I believe I have that ability, sir."
She nodded to an assistant, who placed a small, cloth-covered object in front of me.
"We’d like you to examine this piece. Take your time and tell us what you sense."
I leaned in as the fabric was pulled back, revealing a strange, dark pendant, roughly triangular, shaped somewhat like a dragon and inscribed with faint symbols I hadn’t seen in years.
I swallowed, steadying my breath.
"Obsidian stone. Early Bronze Age craftsmanship, possibly ceremonial. The runes are old, predating the Nordic scripts. This piece wasn’t just decorative, it was used in binding rituals. Possibly soul binding, for the purpose of reincarnation." My voice steadied as I spoke. This was my specialty.
"Judging by the energy and preservation, it was sealed with intention. Ancient blood magic. Dangerous, if mishandled."
The silence that followed stretched for what felt like an eternity. Then Margaret broke into a smile.
"Remarkable," she murmured. "Thank you, Miss Marco. We’ll be in touch."
She and her colleagues began scribbling notes.
I bowed slightly and exited the room, my pulse finally slowing.
As I stepped out into the waiting room where other candidates sat, my phone buzzed.
Dr. Lowen.
My heart skipped a beat as I answered.
"Hello, Doctor?"
"Miss Marco? It’s your father… his condition has worsened. You should come. Immediately."
The breath fled my lungs. "Oh my God! I’m on my way."
I hailed another cab and rode in silence, my stomach twisting into knots.
I arrived few minutes later and ran down the hall to the ICU, where Dr. Lowen waited.
"How is he?" I asked, my voice trembling.
He looked grim. "His vitals are unstable. The tumor has spread further than we expected. We need to operate as soon as possible or…"
He didn’t need to finish. I knew what he wasn’t saying.
"I have some money with me," I said quickly, pulling out my checkbook.
I wrote out a check for two thousand dollars I’d earned from a private artifact evaluation just last week. It was every penny I had left.
"It’s not the full amount, but I can get the rest. I just need a little more time."
Dr. Lowen looked at the check, then back at me with compassionate eyes.
"Ayla, this is a start, but we need the full amount before we can proceed. The surgery costs twenty thousand dollars, and insurance only covers a fraction of it."
"How much more do I need?"
"Fifteen thousand."
The number hit me like a physical blow. Fifteen thousand dollars in forty-eight hours?
"Please," I whispered, hating how desperate I sounded. "He’s all I have left. Just give me a few more days. I’ll find the money somehow."
"I understand your situation, and I wish I could help, but the hospital has policies. Without payment arrangements, we can’t schedule the surgery."
"I understand. But please… just give me more time. I promise I’ll get the money."
He sighed. "We can delay a day. Maybe two. But no more, Miss Marco. He’s fading."
I nodded, forcing back the tears. Then I slipped into the room.
He looked so small and frail beneath the white hospital sheets, surrounded by machines and tubes beeping quietly.
He looked nothing like the strong, vibrant man who had raised me after Mom died.
"I’m going to figure this out, Dad," I whispered, squeezing his fingers. "I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you."
My phone rang, jolting me from my vigil.
Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Miss Marco, this is Margaret from Hillcrest. I have wonderful news. We’ve decided to offer you the position."
I nearly dropped the phone. "Really? You’re serious?"
"Absolutely. We were all thoroughly impressed with your presentation today. If you can make it back to the conference room in an hour, the job is yours."
"Oh my God! I’ll be there in a few minutes!" The words burst out of me with such force that several nurses turned to look.
"Thank you so much, Ma'am. You have no idea what this means to me."
"Wonderful. We’ll be expecting you soon. Welcome to the Hillcrest family, Ayla."
I hung up and stared at the phone in disbelief. I’d gotten the job.
After months of rejection letters and failed interviews, I had actually gotten the job.
"Did you hear that, Dad?" I whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "I got the Hillcrest position. I finally got in. This is going to change everything for us."
For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe again.
The salary would be enough to cover Dad’s surgery. We were going to be okay.
I practically flew out of the hospital as I rushed to get back to the company on time.
I stepped off the curb, my phone pressed to my ear as I called my best friend, Hailey, to share the incredible news.
I was so lost in my euphoria that I didn’t notice the traffic light had changed.
"Hailey, you’re not going to believe what just happened—"
The screech of brakes cut through the air like a scream.
I looked up just in time to see the car bearing down on me with lightning speed.
The impact sent me flying, my body tumbling through the air like a broken doll.
The last thing I remembered was the taste of blood in my mouth and the distant sound of someone calling out to me.
Then everything went black.
- Writer
