Chapter 2 Go Home and see for yourself

Naomi slowly walked out of the hospital room, her steps unsteady as she held onto the IV pole for support. The hospital buzzed with activity-nurses rushed by pushing carts, doctors discussed cases in hushed tones, and the steady beeping of medical equipment filled the air. The sterile smell of disinfectant was pervasive, and the fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow on the white walls.

As she made her way toward the elevator, something caught her attention.

She saw a woman who looked remarkably like her grandmother, dressed in a cleaner's uniform. Naomi's heart skipped a beat. No-it wasn't just a resemblance.

It was her grandmother.

But how could that be? Her grandmother was already dead. Was she dreaming?

"Grandma..." Naomi muttered.

The woman turned, as if hearing her, and smiled. Naomi's eyes widened in shock, her legs staggering. It was really her grandmother-she was certain of it.

"Grandma!" she called again.

But the woman began walking away, faster this time. Naomi frowned and tried to follow, turning down one corridor and then another. But she was getting weaker with every step, unable to catch up. She caught glimpses of her grandmother's uniform as the woman disappeared up the stairwell leading to the rooftop.

When Naomi finally reached the rooftop, her grandmother stood there, smiling at her.

"Am I dreaming right now? Is this part of my illness? Am I hallucinating?" Naomi whispered.

"You're not dreaming, and you're not hallucinating, Naomi. This is real. I am here to give you a second chance at life," Grandma Lucia said gently.

Naomi's brow furrowed. "But Grandma, you're dead. I saw them bury you. How... how can you be standing in front of me?" Her voice trembled with confusion and longing.

Grandma Lucia chuckled softly. "Who said anything about being alive? I'm still dead, my angel. I'm here only to give you a second chance in life. I can't help but feel guilt and regret-I was the one who brought all these lies and deceits into your life."

Naomi blinked, shivering as the wind blew across the rooftop. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

"I can't keep watching you be taken advantage of. I can't watch my precious angel die at the hands of those she trusts the most. It's all my fault. If I hadn't agreed to the betrothal, none of this would have happened. They're killing you slowly, Naomi," Grandma Lucia said.

Naomi stared at her. "Those I trust? Are you talking about Dominic and Vivian?" She gave a bitter laugh. "Now I know this isn't real. You're just a symptom of my illness. My husband and my best friend would never harm me."

"I'm here to give you a second chance. Go home and see for yourself the true nature of those you think love you. You don't deserve what's happening. You've suffered enough. Show them that you're not someone to be fooled or destroyed," Grandma Lucia urged.

Naomi shook her head. "I get it. But you're wrong-Dominic loves me, and so does Vivian. She's been my best friend since high school. Let's not talk about this anymore. I miss you, Grandma... I miss your stories, your hugs." Her eyes filled with tears. "I just want to hug you right now."

With all her strength, Naomi ran to embrace her grandmother. To her shock, she felt the solid warmth of her arms-but only for a fleeting moment. Slowly, her grandmother faded into the wind.

"Go home, Naomi. Go home and see for yourself. You'll get a second chance at life-one filled with genuine love and true happiness," Grandma Lucia whispered as she vanished.

Naomi gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Was this real? Of course it was-she had hugged her grandmother, she was sure of it. Or maybe she was going crazy. Either way, she needed to call Dominic immediately.

When she reached the reception desk, she saw two women at the counter. One had a name tag that read Diana.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. How can we help you? Is anything wrong?" Diana asked.

"Good afternoon, Diana. Why wasn't there an emergency bell in my room?" Naomi asked.

"It's the cheaper private room, ma'am," Diana explained. "We were told by your guardian it wasn't necessary. They said you could use your phone instead."

Naomi's heart sank. Why would Dominic do that?

"Thank you for clarifying. Please-can you lend me your phone? I really need to call my husband. It's urgent," Naomi said.

Diana handed her the phone. Naomi thanked her and quickly dialed Dominic's number. Her heart pounded when the line came back unreachable.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"Is there any problem, ma'am?" Diana asked.

"No... thank you," Naomi replied, her voice trembling.

How could Dominic's phone really be unreachable? And how was she supposed to pay her hospital bills without money or her purse? Clenching her fists, Naomi realized she had no choice but to call her father-the last person she wanted to turn to.

He had never shown her love, not even when she was diagnosed with cancer. Still, she dialed. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Dad, it's me. Naomi."

"You who?" her father snapped.

"Naomi," she repeated.

"Oh-you're still alive," her father scoffed.

Naomi frowned in disbelief. "What does that mean?"

Her mother's voice came faintly in the background. "Honey, don't say that. She's our daughter."

"Why shouldn't I say it? Isn't it true? She'll die soon anyway. She lost the babies, now she has cancer, and she can't even give Dominic an heir," William sneered.

"How can you be so heartless?" Veronica cried. "She needs us more than ever!"

Naomi's throat tightened with tears. "I was calling to tell you I need to pay my hospital bills. My husband-" She stopped when she heard her father's voice again, muffled as he spoke to her mother.

"If she dies, we'll just marry Aurora off to Dominic. My mother and his grandmother made a promise to keep the families bound. If the elder daughter is gone, the younger will replace her."

Naomi broke down, ending the call as tears streamed down her face. The receptionists exchanged pitying looks. They all knew who she was-the wife of Dominic Carson, grandson of Sophia Carson. Why was his wife crying like this?

Her father had always been cruel, a drunk, abusive, and controlling. Her mother lived in constant fear, never daring to oppose him. Naomi had begged her to leave, but she never did.

Wiping her tears, Naomi remembered her grandmother's words. Go home and see for yourself.

Yes, she would go home. But how? She had no money, no transport, and she was sick. She placed her hand gently on her flat stomach.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, little one," she whispered.

"Naomi?"

She turned to see Jasmine-the last person she expected. Vivian's estranged older half-sister. Vivian had always painted Jasmine as arrogant, cruel, and narcissistic.

Naomi forced a smile. "Jasmine... it's been years. What are you doing here?"

"I'm a surgeon at this hospital," Jasmine replied, her face showing genuine concern. "But I didn't expect to see you like this. You... you have cancer, right?"

Naomi frowned. "Yes. What-are you mocking me? Do you think I'm going to die soon, like my father does?"

Jasmine's expression softened. "No. I'm not mocking you, Naomi. I'm concerned. I know what Vivian's told you about me, but I'm not like that. I don't want trouble-I want to help."

Naomi narrowed her eyes. "Help? Why would you want to help me?"

"Because I care," Jasmine sighed. "I'm a doctor, and it's my duty to help. And right now, you look like you need it."

Naomi hesitated. Exhausted, torn by betrayal and confusion, she almost wanted to believe her. "I tried calling my husband... his number is unreachable. They said my hospital bills haven't been paid."

"I can help with that," Jasmine said firmly. "Come with me to my office. We'll figure it out."

Naomi reluctantly followed. The walk was slow, her body leaning on the IV pole for support.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through," Jasmine said softly. "I can't imagine how hard this must be."

Naomi stayed silent, her mind haunted by Dominic, Vivian, and her father's words. Something was terribly wrong.

They reached Jasmine's office, a small but tidy space filled with books and photos. Jasmine gestured for Naomi to sit. Picking up her desk phone, she said, "Let me try calling your husband for you."

Naomi nodded, too drained to argue. Jasmine dialed, waited, then shook her head. "Still unreachable."

"Do you have any other family or friends you can call?"

Naomi's mind went blank. She felt utterly alone. Then her grandmother's words echoed again: Go home and see for yourself.

"I need to go home," Naomi said suddenly, her voice steady.

Jasmine looked surprised, then nodded. "Okay. I'll arrange a car to take you. But promise me you'll come back if you feel worse."

Naomi nodded. "Thank you, Jasmine. I promise."

Within minutes, a hospital car was ready. At the exit, Jasmine handed her a card.

"This is my personal number. Call me anytime you need help."

Naomi took it, her fingers trembling. "Thank you, Jasmine."

"Take care, Naomi. Remember-you still have people who care about you."

Naomi stepped into the car, the weight of the day crushing her. As it pulled away, she looked out the window, her mind racing.

She had to go home. She had to uncover the truth-no matter how painful it might be.