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.