ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
The morning sunlight did little to brighten the dull heaviness in my chest. It slipped through the torn curtains of my apartment like it was scared to enter, brushing over the cracked walls and the small room I'd long stopped trying to fix. I lay there staring at the ceiling, wide awake long before my alarm forced itself on.
My mother's face wouldn't leave me alone.
Her tired smile. The tremble in her hand. The way she tried so hard to convince me she was fine even though the color had drained from her skin.
I pushed myself up with a tired sigh and freshened up. It didn't help. My eyes were still swollen, my hair still wild. I tied it into a messy bun, grabbed my cleaning uniform, and stepped out of the apartment before my own thoughts could swallow me whole.
The moment I entered the hospital hallway, the strong smell of disinfectant hit me. I forced a smile as a nurse passed by. My heart thudded nervously as I approached my mother's room.
"Mom?" I whispered, peeking in.
She turned her head slowly. "You're early, sunshine."
I smiled weakly and set the food pack beside her bed. "Wanted to see you before work."
"You should be resting, Elena," she murmured, reaching out for my hand. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."
I shook my head. "I have to. The surgery"
Her fingers tightened weakly around mine. "It's dangerous. The doctor said the chances are…"
"Mom, stop." My throat tightened. "I'm not losing you. I can't."
She sighed, her eyes drifting away from mine, as if she didn't want me to see the fear swimming there.
And then it happened.
The monitor beside her beeped sharply, once, twice, then faster.
"Mom?" My voice cracked. Her hand shot to her chest, her breathing turning shallow.
"Mom!" I panicked and ran to the door. "Doctor! Somebody help! Please!"
Within seconds, nurses and a doctor rushed inside. One of them pushed me aside gently, but my knees were shaking too much to care.
"What's happening?" I cried.
"Her heart is failing," one nurse answered. "We need immediate surgery."
They lifted her onto a stretcher, rolling her out of the room. I followed them until the doctor stopped me right at the entrance to the operation ward.
"You can't come in."
"Please, she's my mother!"
"I'm sorry," he said, "but we cannot begin without the surgery deposit."
My blood ran cold.
"What did you, what did you just say?"
"We need the payment confirmed first."
I stared at him, disbelief turning into panic. "Start it, I'll get the money. Please, just start!"
He shook his head, pity softening his face but not his decision. "We cannot take that risk."
Something inside me cracked. "Please!" I grabbed his coat, sobbing. "Don't let her die, please!"
He gently removed my hands. "As soon as the deposit reflects, we will move."
They rolled my mother inside the ward, the doors closing right in my face.
I stood there, shaking, barely breathing.
I needed money. Now.
My mind raced, wild, desperate and out of nowhere, one name flashed through me.
Henry Smith.
His business card. His quiet offer.
"A contract that could change your life."
I fumbled through my bag, my hands trembling until I found the card. White, plain, simple, but suddenly heavier than anything I'd ever held.
I didn't even think.
I dialed.
The phone rang once, twice and then:
"Hello, who…"
"I'm ready." My voice broke. "I'll do it. I'll sign it. Please help me."
He went silent for a moment. "Miss? What happened?"
I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears. "My mom. They won't start the surgery. I need the money now. Please please."
"Where are you?"
"The same hospital," I whispered. "Please hurry."
"Don't move. I'm on my way."
Five minutes later a black car screeched to a stop in front of the hospital. Henry got out almost immediately and rushed to me.
"Miss "
"Please," I whispered, my voice barely stable. "Just… take me. Tell me what to do."
He held the door open. "Get in."
I climbed in, hugging my bag to my chest. My whole body trembled uncontrollably.
"We'll solve it," he said gently as he started the car. "I promise."
I swallowed hard. "When can I sign?"
"You'll meet the man involved first," he said. "He has to approve."
"I don't care. I'll agree to anything."
He didn't respond. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"You will care," he murmured under his breath.
The car pulled up before a towering glass building so tall I had to raise my head to see the top. The letters REYES GLOBAL HOLDINGS gleamed above like something untouchable.
My breath caught the moment I stepped inside. Marble floors, golden lights, walls of glass, everything screamed money. More money than I had ever imagined in one place.
Henry walked ahead, and I followed dumbly, feeling like every step took me further from the world I knew.
We entered a private elevator. My legs felt like noodles as we shot upward. The doors opened into a silent, spacious hallway with only one office door at the end.
Henry paused, gave me a reassuring nod, and knocked.
A deep voice came from inside.
"Come in," a deep voice answered.
Henry opened the door and stepped inside first. I stayed close behind him, my fingers twisting nervously.
The man behind the massive desk lifted his head from a file he was reading. His eyes, cold, sharp, unreadable, moved to Henry first, then to me.
And I saw it.
Not surprising.
Not curiosity.
Disappointment.
The kind that wasn't even hidden.
His expression dropped almost instantly, like he had expected something entirely different, someone entirely different, and I definitely wasn't it.
Henry cleared his throat. "Sir, she's the one."
The man leaned back in his chair slightly, his jaw tightening. He didn't bother hiding the way his gaze swept over me once, quick, unimpressed, almost bored.
"What is this?" he asked Henry, his tone flat.
I swallowed hard, lowering my eyes even though he hadn't told me to.
Henry straightened. "She meets the conditions, sir."
The man didn't respond immediately. His silence felt louder than shouting.
Finally, he spoke, cold, clipped.
"Explain yourself."
His voice wasn't directed at me, he didn't even look at me when he said it. It was for Henry.
Henry quickly stepped forward. "Her situation is urgent. She's willing, available, and .."
The man lifted a hand, stopping him.
He finally looked at me fully.
"You're here for the contract?" he asked.
My throat tightened. "Yes."
The way he exhaled told me he hadn't liked my answer. Or maybe he just didn't like me. Whatever it was, disappointment shadowed his face clearly now.
He stood up, slowly, deliberately. He was tall. Much taller than Henry. His presence filled the entire room in a cold, suffocating way.
"You know nothing about it," he said. "Yet you're ready to sign?"
"Yes," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I… I need your help. Please."
He didn't soften. If anything, he seemed even more uninterested.
Henry tried again, gently. "Her mother is in critical condition. The deposit…"
"I heard you," the man cut in.
He walked around his desk until he stood in front of me. I kept my eyes down, afraid to meet his.
He waited.
Waited until the silence became painful.
"Sit," he said quietly.
I obeyed instantly.
He studied me again, expression unreadable except for the clear hint of disappointment still etched into his features.
"You understand that entering an agreement with me is not something you rush into?"
I nodded quickly. "Yes."
"You understand there is no backing out once it begins?"
"Yes."
He didn't look convinced.
"And you truly believe," he continued, "you can handle what this contract requires?"
I swallowed. "I… yes."
Another long pause.
He sighed. "Henry."
Henry stepped forward. "Yes, sir?"
"Take her downstairs. Let her hear the contract in full."
His tone was cold and final.
"Yes, sir."
I stood up slowly, my knees shaking.
Right before Henry guided me out, the man spoke again, not to me, but about me.
"If this is your choice" he said quietly.
He looked tired. Displeased. Almost annoyed.
"then let her listen. After that, I will decide."
My breath caught.
I wasn't accepted.
Not even considered.
Just a maybe.
A distant possibility.
When the elevator doors closed, I exhaled shakily.
Whoever that man was, he hadn't wanted me.
But I had no choice. I needed the money. I needed my mother alive.
And even if he didn't want me.
I still had to hear the contract that could decide the rest of my life.