Aurora's POV
It was past nine when I reached home. The night lamps flickered faintly, casting restless shadows across the walls. The house was quiet… too quiet.
I hated quiet houses.
But Ayla was already asleep, her tiny form tucked safely in bed.
I exhaled softly, slipping off my heels as I walked into the kitchen. Grabbing a bowl, I poured cereal and added a handful of berries. The first bite tasted like nothing, because the silence had already triggered memories I wished would stay buried.
It had been a rainy night.
Ayla was only six months old, her small body burning with fever. She had been shivering all day, her tiny fists curled against my chest as she whimpered weakly. The fever medication hadn't worked. The wet towel compresses barely helped. And then, as night fell, her cries weakened, and her little frame went limp in my arms.
Panic clawed at my chest. My baby was unconscious.
I dialed Sebastian's number with trembling fingers. Again. And again.
No answer.
He was working as a resident at Aetos Multi-Specialty Hospitals, over an hour away. I had no choice but to rush Ayla to the nearest local hospital.
The doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize her, their tired eyes reflecting my own fear. Machines beeped. Oxygen masks. Needles. My heart felt like it would stop at any second.
"She needs to be transferred," one of the doctors told me grimly. "We've managed to stabilize her vitals for now, but she requires specialized care. Take her to Aetos immediately."
The next thing I knew, we were in an ambulance. Sirens screamed through the stormy night, every second an eternity. I held Ayla's tiny hand, whispering desperate prayers into her damp curls.
"Hold on, baby… please, hold on."
The paramedic kept checking her vitals, his face tense.
"We're almost there," he assured me.
But my heart wouldn't stop racing. I kept my eyes on her chest, counting every fragile rise and fall.
Finally, the ambulance screeched to a halt outside Aetos Multi-Specialty Hospitals. The emergency team was already waiting. They whisked Ayla from my arms and rushed her inside.
And then the next thought hit me like a sledgehammer.
I need money.
I had just started my career in real estate. I barely had a hundred dollars to my name. Insurance would never cover everything.
Ten thousand dollars. That was the estimate they gave me.
I called Sebastian again. And again. And again.
No answer.
Desperation consumed me. My parents lived in another state, three hours away by plane, but I called them anyway, my voice breaking.
"We're coming, sweetheart," my mother said, panic laced in her voice. "Stay strong. We'll be there soon."
I could picture them rushing through the airport, frantic.
My tears had dried up. My hands were numb from clutching my phone. But the pit in my stomach only grew heavier.
I stepped out of the PICU to find an outlet for my dying phone. And that's when I saw him.
Sebastian.
Standing in the dimly lit hospital corridor… his arms wrapped around a crying woman.
His lips brushed against her forehead, whispering soft reassurances.
The world around me spun violently. My mind went blank, my vision blurring into nothing.
And then—darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed. My parents were sitting beside me, their eyes red and swollen. Someone stood next to them, speaking in a low voice.
I struggled to focus on the figure.
Theo.
The boy who had been by my side for as long as I could remember.
"Theo…" I whispered weakly, before the blackness pulled me under again.
A gentle touch on my shoulder jolted me back to the present.
I turned.
Lydia, Ayla's nanny, stood there, her eyes filled with concern.
"Miss Aurora, are you okay?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a small smile. "I'm fine," I lied.
But I wasn't.
Because no matter how much I tried to bury them, the ghosts of that night still lingered.