Chapter 1
© FR Khan. This story is an original intellectual property and is protected under copyright law.No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, translated, or redistributed in any form without written permission from the author.
Beep. Beep.
The monitors beeped steadily in the background, the all-too-familiar chorus of hospital sounds filling the room.
I folded my arms across my chest, bracing myself.
"...So these are your two choices..."
Dr. Collin, my mother's doctor, said as he held the clipboard to his chest. He pursed his lips—and he had that face.
I hated it when he made that face.
A steady silence stretched between us as I tried to wrap my head around his latest revelation.
My two choices-
A) Pay for my mother's surgery and become bankrupt.
B) Don't pay for it and let the hospital pull the plug on the machine that had been keeping her alive all those years.
"How much time do I have?" I asked him quietly, already dreading his response.
He regarded me for a beat.
"You have to make the first payment by the end of this month, at the very least."
I nodded, showing him my understanding.
"Mia..." he hesitated before reaching out and giving my shoulder a squeeze.
"I've known you since you were a kid. And you've done enough—more than any child would do for a parent. I'm not saying this as a doctor, but as a friend. Her brain damage... it's irreversible. Just let her go."
Let her go...
I glanced sideways at my mother. At her frail body. At the numerous tubes going in and out of her.
Her eyes were closed in a peaceful slumber—the same slumber she had been drifting in for the past fifteen years.
Beep. Beep.
"Can't do that," I said, tone clipped.
"Can't or won't?"
I didn't reply, and he sighed.
"Mia, we've talked about this before... You were just a child when it all happened. You have to stop blaming yourself."
A pulse of irritation coursed through me.
Why did other people make it sound so easy?
Like guilt was a big red button—
And all I had to do was press it off.
It wasn't.
And I couldn't.
"You can prep for the surgery, Dr. Collin. You'll get the money."
My words came out sharper than I had intended, but I had little patience when it came to this.
My faults were my own. And no matter what Dr. Collin or anyone else said—
It wouldn't change the past.
It wouldn't change a damn thing.
My sister would still be dead.
And Mom would still be here, unmoving and comatose.
He pursed his lips as he nodded.
"Very well, Mia. I know I can't change your mind. But once life support patients cross the ten-year mark, these problems happen. The quality of life goes down." He paused. "Her kidneys could only be the beginning. Other organs might even be worse. That's why I suggested you consider... the other option."
The other option.
I scoffed lightly. There was no other option.
"I have to go, Dr. Collin."
He studied me briefly before giving a small nod.
"Alright."
A small silence stretched between us, and we both glanced outside.
"The storm is terrible," he observed. Then, turning to me, he added,
"Maybe you can take a day off?"
I sighed.
"I'll be fine. I can't afford to get fired," I told him as I zipped up my winter coat.
Dr. Collin clicked his teeth.
"I—I don't know how you do it, Mia..." he said.
"You're a beautiful girl, and you're only twenty-three. Girls your age party and hang out at clubs. They don't work themselves to the bone with two jobs and bills. Tell me—don't you miss it? Living a regular life?"
My shoulders sagged, and I offered him a small smile.
"You can't miss what you've never had, Dr. Collin," I said lightly as I ran my finger over the fabric of my cap before putting it on.
"I'll see you around, then." I nodded at him once before walking out into the corridor.
True to the forecast, it really was the worst snowstorm of the decade. The moment I stepped out of the warm and dry hospital lobby, I was pelted with cold, wet snow, soaking through my coat. I sighed and stepped out into the open, my boots crunching over the heavy snow.
Around me, there was a scurry of activity as almost everyone ran in the opposite direction, trying to find cover.
Everyone except me.
Maybe those other people could afford to be late.
Maybe their bills were already paid, and they wouldn't lose a parent on life support if they slacked.
But I would—so I couldn't.
I pulled out my cell phone and tapped on the transport app.
The next bus was after 40 minutes.
I clicked my teeth.
I can't wait that long.
I thought about it for a bit, eyes scanning the white surroundings, before I made a quick decision.
I had to get to work, no matter what.
And so, with my head dipped, I walked headfirst into an endless storm, letting it swallow me whole.
***
I finally reached the café with five minutes to spare before my shift started. I wiped the snow off my face, my cheeks cold and numb. The owner, Miss Jules, gave me a small nod before proceeding to empty the cash register.
Thankfully, there was only one other customer. She was busy scrolling her phone. I quickly changed into my uniform and walked over to take her order.
"Hi, what can I get you?"
She jumped a bit as she looked up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I apologized.
"No, it's quite alright! I just didn't hear you come over, that's all." She gestured outside. "The weather is terrible. I was just waiting for the storm to blow over."
I smiled politely at her. Even though I usually didn't notice people, this one was hard to ignore.
She was young. Beautiful. And she didn't just wear money—she wore the kind of ease that came with never needing to earn it.
Her coat alone would cover three months of pay for me.
Life...
"I thought the roads were closed. How did you get here?" she asked, pulling me out of my depressing thoughts.
"I walked."
"Really?" She leaned back in her chair slightly. I noticed a thick wedding ring on her finger.
"From where?"
"Saint Paul's."
"The hospital?" she exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
I nodded.
"That's like ten blocks away!" Her big blue eyes widened.
I nodded again.
"Yeah... So would you like to order something?" I tapped my pencil lightly over my notepad, trying to hide my impatience.
"Yes... a black coffee..." Her eyes glazed over, lost behind a thought.
This is weird.
"Coming right up," I said as I walked away. I could still feel her eyes on me as I walked up to the counter and started brewing her coffee.
Once her order was ready, I placed it beside her.
"Here you go," I said lightly before walking away.
"Wait!" she called out from behind.
My eyes snapped up to her.
She shifted in her seat as she bit her lip.
"This might sound a bit strange, but how would you—" she hesitated,
"Are you perhaps... interested in making some money?" she asked, voice low.
I frowned and looked around, making sure no one overheard. This was not the first time. These people were always lurking around, preying on the weak. It was the same thing every time.
Easy money. Low morals. Something sketchy.
I had learned long ago not to get my hopes up.
There was no such thing as easy money.
"Yes, I am. But unfortunately, I can't afford to go to jail, so—"
"Oh no!" the woman laughed, her expensive watch glinting under the dull lights of the café.
"I see how that might have come across! It's—it's not like that. This is not!" She laughed some more.
Even her laugh sounded expensive.
Is that even possible?
"It's actually my first time asking someone directly, so I'm a bit nervous. Usually, it's the agency that finds the girls."
My eyebrows shot up. I became even more skeptical.
An agency that hires girls?
"What if I told you there was a way you could make a lot of money, it's completely legal, and you could make someone's life infinitely better?"
That sounded too good to be true, right?
"How would you like to be my surrogate?"
***
Comment, vote!!!
