The words didn't land right. ICU. Ambulance. None of it felt real.
"What happened? Is she awake? Is she..."
"The doctor will explain when you arrive," the nurse said, calm but distant, trained to be professional. "Please come now."
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, thumb still pressed to the screen. The room felt too small, too quiet. The alarm clock glowed 6:02 a.m. on the dresser.
Without thinking, I grabbed jeans, a sweater, and shoes. Wallet, keys, phone. I didn't check if anything matched or lock the door behind me.
The bus ride felt endless. I sat near the back, my leg bouncing so hard the seat vibrated. My hands trembled uncontrollably. Every thought crashed into the next: Heart attack. Stroke. Accident. Why didn't she call me? Please don't be dead. Please...
I typed a message to my new manager with trembling fingers:
Family emergency. I can't come in today. Sorry.
The reply came instantly:
First day and you're already calling out? We'll discuss this tomorrow.
Tomorrow. Like it mattered if my mother didn't make it through the day.
The hospital smelled like disinfectant and recycled air, too sterile, too bright. The ICU waiting room was already full, faces gray with fear. I checked in, then everything blurred: machines, tubes, my mother unconscious and smaller than I'd ever seen her. A doctor explained organ failure, complications, and urgent surgery, but I couldn't process the costs.
Half a million dollars.
I nodded like I understood, like I wasn't drowning.
I didn't sleep that night, or the next. I left at dawn, still in yesterday's clothes, and went straight to the bank.
The loan officer was kind, which somehow made it harder.
He shook his head gently. With my income, credit, and no collateral, they could max out at ten thousand dollars.
"I need five hundred thousand," I said, and hated how small my voice sounded.
He asked about a cosigner, someone with assets, wealth.
I stared at the desk between us. "I don't have anyone."
He said he was sorry. I believed him.
My phone rang as I stepped outside.
"Mr. Ryn," HR said, cool and professional. "We need to discuss your absence yesterday."
"My mother's in the hospital," I cut in. "It was an emergency. I can start tomorrow, today, or even. Just.."
"Missing your first day without notice is grounds for termination," she said. "We've decided to move forward with our second choice."
The call ended.
I stood there, staring at my phone as people rushed past. Four years of college. Loans I'd be paying forever. Gone before I even showed up.
Later, I met Mira because I didn't know where else to go.
She looked horrified when I told her. She asked questions I couldn't answer. When she asked how much I needed, the words stuck in my throat.
"I have five hundred saved," she finally said. "You can have all of it."
I nodded, thankful, even though it was nothing against half a million. She talked about fundraisers, social media, and asking everyone she knew.
"She doesn't have months," I said. "She has weeks."
We cried right there in the café, holding on to each other because neither of us knew what else to do.
***
That night, I sat in the hospital cafeteria with my laptop, searching desperately, but nothing. Grants with waiting lists. Loans I didn't qualify for. Every ad that promised quick cash ended the same way.
Then I saw it:
Omega Companions Wanted. Earn $$$.
I read it once, then again. Closed my laptop, then reopened it.
I slammed it shut and pushed it away.
There had to be another way.
By Wednesday afternoon, exhaustion hollowed me out. I must have dozed off in the waiting room because a rough hand shaking my shoulder jolted me awake.
"Time for a chat."
They dragged me into the stairwell before I could react. The loan shark grabbed my jaw hard enough to make my eyes water.
"This isn't a negotiation," he said. "Your mother owed us. Now you do."
One of his men flashed brass knuckles. Another smiled like he was enjoying this.
They talked about clubs. About work. About how much Alphas paid for desperate Omegas.
"And your mother," he added casually. "A lot can happen in a place like this," he said."
When they left, I slid down the wall, shaking until my teeth rattled.
I went back to my mother's bedside at dusk, holding her hand. I whispered everything, about the banks, the job, the men, the offer I hadn't taken.
"I'm going to save you," I promised. "Whatever it costs."
Her fingers twitched faintly in my grasp.
***
Later, in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. I barely recognized myself. Then I pulled Sebastian's card from my pocket.
I almost called.
I told myself I'd try one more thing tomorrow.
But the sharks didn't wait.
They grabbed me in the parking lot, dragging me toward a van, hands over my mouth. I fought until headlights cut across the asphalt.
A black sedan rolled in silently.
Two men stepped out, big, calm, dangerous.
"Release him," one said.
The air shifted when the other Alpha let loose his pheromones. The sharks backed away, swearing, promising this wasn't over.
They left.
The bodyguard told me they'd been watching, protecting me. My mother's surgery could happen tomorrow if I accept.
Later, in my apartment, I finally broke down, crying until I had nothing left.
I looked around the room that had been my life.
I kept waiting for another option to appear. Nothing did.
I set my alarm for the morning and stared at the ceiling, exhausted.
Tomorrow, whatever my life was about to become would start.
Tomorrow, everything would change.