Chapter 2 - White Corridors and Cold Truths
The hospital was a blur of fluorescent lights,
and the smell of antiseptic stung my nose.
I paced the waiting room,
and every tick of the clock felt like a hammer against my skull.
Doctors hurried past me,
their faces masked by professional indifference.
I had given them my name,
and I had given them my credit card,
and I had told them that if she didn't survive,
I would buy the entire hospital just to fire them.
The silence was a weight,
pressing down on my shoulders,
reminding me of all the people I had ignored on my way up.
Finally,
a surgeon emerged from the double doors,
removing his mask with a sigh.
“She is stable,”
he said,
and I felt the breath return to my lungs.
“But she is severely malnourished,”
he added,
looking at me with judgment in his eyes.
“There are signs of prolonged stress,
and a heart condition that has been left untreated for years.”
I gripped the back of a plastic chair until the knuckles of my hand turned white.
“Will she recover?”
I asked,
my voice sounding hollow.
“With rest and proper care,”
the doctor replied,
“but she needs more than just medicine.”
I walked into her room,
and the sound of the heart monitor was the only thing breaking the quiet.
She looked even smaller in the hospital bed,
surrounded by white sheets and plastic tubes.
I sat in the chair beside her,
and I watched the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest.
I thought about her father,
the man I had never met but had destroyed with a few keystrokes.
I thought about the apartment she mentioned,
the coldness she had endured while I lived in a heated palace.
I was a monster,
I realized,
hidden behind a tailored suit and a billion-dollar bank account.
I reached out to touch her hand,
but I stopped myself,
afraid that my touch would only bring more destruction.
I would fix this,
I told myself,
even if it took every penny I had.
I would be her savior,
even if I was the one who had made her a victim.
May you like
I watched her sleep until the sun began to rise,
and the light of dawn felt like a judgment.
