Yolanda's POV

“Here, sir,” My right hand shook as I handed the cab driver my fare.

At that moment, the blood in my veins had been replaced by fear, as I could do nothing but fear the worst.

How could something like this happen to my mother?

“You gave me more,” He said, giving me a thirty dollar bill, concern prominent in his gaze, “I hope everything turns out fine. You seemed spaced out during the entire ride.”

“My,” I began to say before tears clogged my throat, “T-Thank you.”

Stepping down from the cab, I bounded past the glass doors of the hospital, my entire body awash with anxiety.

It was only then I realized I didn't even tell anyone before leaving work, as I'd been consumed by my thoughts.

But then again, was it even necessary?

Especially since my resignation letter was currently on my desk.

Pushing down every Reed related thoughts, I raked my fingers through my hair frantically, as my mind strayed to my poor mum.

She was the only family I had, and the only parent I had ever known my entire life.

According to her, her sperm donor, because I could never bring myself to call him my father, had abandoned us, a month before I was born.

My mum was the strongest woman I knew, especially since I had never once seen her cry over him.

She had only told me the story when I was eleven, as I wouldn't stop bugging her about why I was the only person in my entire class without a dad.

And ever since, I knew better than to bring up the matter again.

Now, I certainly knew that my mum and I were unlucky with love.

“Yolanda?” A middle-aged woman clad in teal scrubs called me as I walked to the nurses' station, and my panic heightened.

Had my mother's condition worsened?

“Y-Yes, I'm her,” I nodded fervently, “Where is my mum?”

“She is in the recovery room,” The woman replied, offering me a handshake, “I'm Miss Alice Peters, your mum's colleague and friend.”

“Oh,” I replied, as we shook hands, “Mum told me about you. It's sad we are meeting this way. What happened to her?”

“I have no idea myself,” She replied, “I found Giselle laying lifelessly on the floor of the storage room.”

Just how much was the universe going to torture my mum?

My mum was a cleaner at the hospital.

At times, I couldn't help but wonder if her sperm donor suddenly up and leaving us, and subsequently, my birth, had derailed my mother from pursuing her life's goal.

Sure, being a cleaner was a noble job, but I knew my mother must have definitely had other passions.

In the past when I had asked if she had a dream career, she had somehow managed to change the subject, instead of answering the question.

A year had barely even passed since my mother started working here, and I hadn't even had the chance to even meet the kind Miss Alice she was always raving on about in person, until now.

“Thanks for finding her,” I said, and she waved it off.

Giving my hand a firm yet reassuring squeeze, Miss Alice said, “The doctor wants to see you.”

My heart plunged as goosebumps enveloped my entire being, “It's serious, isn't it? Is she in coma? Is she bleeding from her brain?”

“I honestly don't know anything because she has refused to speak to anyone who isn't Giselle's family,” Miss Alice replied, and I nodded, trying my best not to have a breakdown.

My mum had no one but me, and vice versa, thus, I had to be strong for her.

“Aren't you going in with me?” I asked, when Miss Alice stopped at the door.

“No, she specifically asked to see her family,” The older woman divulged, and I felt chills race down my spine.

“I see,” I muttered, absentmindedly fiddling with my fingers.

Sensing my distress, Miss Alice took my hands in hers, “But don't worry, I will be right there at the nurses’station, okay? I will wait for you.”

“Okay, Miss Miss Alice,” I croaked, swallowing the lump of tears clogging my throat.

“Just knock and go in. I wish you the best.” She replied, before giving me a gentle shoulder pat.

Thereafter, she left.

Inhaling sharply, I followed Miss Alice's advice and gave the door a light knock before turning the doorknob open.

Walking into the office filled me with a dreadful sense of apprehension, that sent chills racing down my spine.

I did my best to remain calm as I came face to face with the doctor; a surprisingly young woman.

“Good day, doctor…,” I paused to read the nametag on her coat, “Jones.”

“Hello, Miss Monroe,” She said then motioned to the chair in front of her desk, “Please sit down.”

“Thank you,” I replied, inwardly hoping that I appeared as calm as I thought as I was, at that moment.

“Did you know that your mum has cancer?” She asked, and my eyes widened in horror.

Fervently, I shook my head in negation, “N-No, I didn't. My mum didn't say anything about that to me. How long has she had it? What type of cancer does she have? Wi-”

“Please calm down and take a deep breath, Miss ,” The doctor said, her eyes brimming with concern, “I'm your mum's oncologist, so I'll explain everything to you, okay?”

“O-Okay,” I nodded, my voice a shaky rasp, as I did as she said.

After a moment, my chest felt less tight, however, panic still thrummed through my veins.

“Good,” She replied, “Back to your questions. Your mum has liver cancer, which according to the test that was conducted earlier, has now unfortunately metastasized to her ovaries, lungs, and uterus. She has known about this cancer for the past three months.”

“Oh, god,” I whispered, as my hands flew over my mouth in shock.

Three months was such a long time for her to have been carrying that news, without sharing it with me.

Why would she even think keeping it to herself was the best solution?

“S-So, what's next now?” I asked.

“Miss Giselle was supposed to start chemotherapy as soon as the biopsy revealed a cancerous tumor on her liver three months ago, but due to lack of funds, she couldn't,” The doctor divulged, and my heart sank, “Given how things have escalated, she needs to undergo a surgery to remove that tumor immediately. After that, chemotherapy will follow.”

“How much will everything cost?” I was near tears as I asked.

“This is a breakdown of the fees, miss,” Doctor Jones replied, before sliding a piece of paperwork toward me.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I beheld the magnanimous amount.

Five million, three hundred and seventy thousand dollars with nine cents.

This had to be a nightmare.

Even if I worked for fifty years, I wouldn't be able to save a quarter of that amount.

How and where was I supposed to even get a huge amount of money like that from?

At that moment, I felt a sudden need to get out of her office, as I felt suffocated.

I wanted to go for a walk to lessen the torrent of thoughts ravaging my mind at that moment.

Standing up, I said, “I-I will be right back.”

Before the doctor could respond, I exited her office in a rush.

“We will talk later please,” I told Miss Alice as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Alright.” She nodded, seemingly understanding my plight.

I could feel my heartbeat on the tip of my tongue as I dragged myself out of the hospital, completely worn down by the new development.

As I walked down a quiet alleyway, a large colorful poster caught my attention, pulling me out of my discomfiting mind bubble.

“Need a loan? Look no further. Just ring us at +1 (212) 555-0199. At Stanford loaning services, we offer financial help, without asking you for a collateral or a guarantor.”

There was absolutely no way that this was real.

Who lent someone money without asking for anything?

Nowadays, human trafficking rings would masquerade as shady businesses like this one, and people who were desperate and unfortunate enough, would end up falling into their trap.

Without sparing the poster another glance, I continued walking, the phone number unfortunately branded into my mind.

Yolanda's POV

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of shuffling nearby.

Blinking my eyes open, I saw that the waiting room, where I'd spent the night, was now packed.

For a split second, I felt a twinge of embarrassment.

But, when I remembered the reason why I was in the hospital, my shame vanished completely.

Last night, I had emptied out my savings of sixteen thousand dollars which unfortunately didn't even amount to one fifth of the medical bill.

Checking my mother's bank account had brought tears to my eyes, as she had just three dollars in her name.

According to her transaction history, she made generous donations to orphanages monthly.

 Even though she earned peanuts.

 My mum's heart was just too pure.

"Good morning, Miss Monroe," A nurse greeted me as she came up to me.

"Good morning," I replied, my heart flying to my throat, as I tried but failed not to think of the worst.

"Your mother is awake and has been moved to the female ward. Would you like to see her?" She asked, and I instantly shot up from my seat, causing the nurse to regard me strangely.

But, I didn't care because I would finally get to see my mother.

"Yes, please." I replied.

A moment later as I followed the nurse into the ward, my chest tightened as I beheld different patients, with various levels of illness.

My heart sank when we finally reached my mum's bed.

Within a single day, my mum had become a complete shadow of herself.

How was this even possible?

I had seen her yesterday before heading to work, and she'd seemed full of life.

Now, she laid gaunt and deathly pallor on the bed, with three machines beeping beside her, and a tube in her throat.

Stifling the urge to burst into tears, I gently placed my hand on her shoulder, and she slowly blinked her eyes open.

I sniffled, and she shakily reached out to cradle my face.

"Hi, mum," I whispered, my breath hitching my throat.

Since she was constrained by the tube, mum couldn't open her mouth to speak to me, which made my stomach curl up in despondent knots.

A lone tear streamed down her left cheek then, filling me with despair.

She was clearly beating herself up for her situation.

Wiping off her tears with my hands, I said, "Please don't cry, mum. This is not your fault."

As badly as I wanted to break down in tears right there and then, I pulled myself together because I didn't want her to cry anymore.

Smoothening down her flyaways, I pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"I will make sure you get better, okay?" I said, and she shook her head languidly, as though she was telling me not to do it.

A classic selfless move from her 

"Bye, mum." I whispered, tenderly stroking her shoulder.

As I walked out of the ward, I finally turned on the waterworks, my heart clenching with despair.

Never in my life had I felt so helpless.

I had made an empty promise to my mum, that I wasn't even sure about how or if I was ever going to make it happen.

So, I had basically lied to her.

Exhaling heavily, I wiped off my tears and returned to the waiting room.

Then, I retracted my phone from my bag for the first time that morning, to check for missed calls and unread messages.

I wasn't at all surprised to see that I had missed a string of Reed's calls, and he had also sent me loads of messages.

Some of my colleagues had also texted me, regarding my sudden resignation.

I chose to send them all a broadcast message, informing them that I'd resigned for personal reasons.

My heart almost flew out of my throat as I clicked Reed's text thread open.

"Are you doing fine, Yolanda? I saw the resignation letter. Why are you quitting all of a sudden? Also, please pick up. Let's talk things out." His first message read.

Without giving it a thought, I deleted all the messages and proceeded to block him as well.

Although, doing it made me feel like a bad person, I knew I had to do it, because I just couldn't deal with anything related to him right now.

 I had bigger fish to fry.

Scrolling down my inbox, I saw a message from Zoey.

"I am tired of law school. Come rescue me please." Her message read, causing me to smile for the first time since yesterday.

Her bar finals were in a week, and my best friend was actively and understandably losing her marbles.

Telling her about my own issues would only cause her to worry, which was the last thing she needed right now.

Her college was six hours away, but we often got together at least once in a month, whenever she came around to visit her family.

"I'm rooting for you, my future lawyer." I typed and sent to her, just as my stomach started rumbling.

Right.

The last time I ate was yesterday morning.

Digging into my bag, I found the fifty dollars that Miss Alice gave me last night, after I recounted everything the doctor told me to her, albeit I had avoided telling her the amount needed.

I really didn't need her worrying about it.

My phone dinged with a message then, "Thanks, babes. I'm off to study. Take care of yourself and extend my regards to your mum." 

"Okay. You too." I replied, my heart breaking for the umpteenth time that afternoon as I thought about my mum's predicament.

I stared into the voidness in front of me for a moment, before standing up and going out to the main road, where I took a cab home.

There, I freshened up, packed some clothes for my mum, and also had a packet of instant noodles, as I didn't feel inclined to have a proper meal.

Hours later, as I re-entered the visiting room after dropping off my mum's hospital bag in her corner, a wild thought flashed through my mind.

I could give Stanford loaning services a trial.

Truthfully, even if I managed to get a new job, I could never get the money needed for my mum's medical bills.

Also, delaying payment could be extreme dangerous, especially as my mum's condition had deteriorated drastically.

Before I could think too much of it, I searched them up, but was surprised to see that they had no address listed on the internet.

Just their phone number.

Instead of being suspicious, I copied the number and called it.

My heart pounded against my ribs in a manic mix of dread tinged with anticipation, as I waited for someone to pick up.

On the third ring, the line clicked.

"Hello, this is Stanford loaning services. How may we be of service to you?" A man's voice came from the other end, causing an unsettling feeling to hang over me like a cloak, but I chose to pay it no mind.

Scanning around the waiting room, I saw that I was thankfully the only person there.

"I need a loan. I saw on the poster that I don't need collateral or a guarantor. Is that true?"

"Yes, ma'am," He replied, to my utter relief.

"So, how do I go about it?"

"Kindly send us your location and someone will there to pick you up shortly." The man responded, and my brows furrowed in confusion. 

"Why can't I come there by myself?"

"Our policy doesn't enable us to share our location with potential clients. I hope you understand." He said.

At that point, I should have taken that as a warning sign and hung up, but I didn't.

Instead, I went on to give him the hospital's address.

Being desperate and at a dead end had me disregarding my safety completely.

Exactly thirty minutes later, the same number called to inform me that one of their representatives had gotten to the hospital.

Stepping out, I saw a black, sleek Mercedes Benz parked out front, with a suit-clad man standing beside it.

Immediately our eyes met, I knew he was here for me.

What kind of a loaning service used a luxurious car like this to pick up their client? The question remained unanswered in my mind.

 "Hi, are you with Stanford?" I asked to make sure, as I walked to the car.

"Yes, ma'am," He responded, before opening the back door for me to enter.

Looking in, I saw an opulent interior that made chills race down my spine, but I chose to be brave and got into the car.

Moments later as he drove onto the highway, I could only hope that I hadn't foolishly fallen into a human trafficking trap.