ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
I couldn't tell how I made it out of that office.
One moment I was staring at him.
The next, the elevator doors had already swallowed us whole.
All I remembered was the soft click of the pen leaving the paper.
And Henry's eyes watching me with a level of concern that made my stomach twist.
"Miss" he began once the elevator started descending.
Then he paused, realizing he didn't know my name.
"Elena," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "My name is Elena Hart."
He nodded slowly. "Right. Miss Elena, I know you're desperate, but you should have read that document."
"I told you," I muttered shakily, clutching my bag against my chest. "I don't have time. My mom could be dying right now."
Henry didn't argue.
He just studied me for a long moment, as if he wanted to say more but knew it wouldn't change anything.
The elevator opened, and he motioned with a slight bow. "Let's go. We'll get you back to the hospital."
My legs moved before my mind could. Everything was a blur of fast footsteps, polished marble floors, and the distant echo of voices.
Then the outside air hit me like a slap.
Henry opened the passenger door for me.
"Get in."
I sank into the seat, pulling the seatbelt over me with fingers that wouldn't stop shaking. Henry got in, started the engine, and pulled out of the driveway.
The car began moving, but my thoughts stayed stuck on the signature I had scribbled without thinking.
My name.
On a contract.
With a man whose cold eyes still burned in my mind.
The silence felt heavy in the car, streetlights slid across my skin through the window like stripes of gold and shadow. Henry drove steadily, focused, but every few seconds, he stole a quick glance at me.
"You look pale," he finally said. "Are you breathing?"
"I don't know," I admitted, my voice cracking. "I just keep thinking…"
"You did what you felt you had to do," he said gently.
"That doesn't mean it wasn't stupid."
Henry didn't deny it.
"Miss Elena" He exhaled, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Whatever you sign, you should prepare yourself. Mr. Reyes is not..."
He stopped abruptly.
Something in the way he hesitated made my chest tighten.
"Not what?" I pressed.
Henry shook his head, as though he had already said too much. "Just, be careful. And keep in mind, he always gets what he wants."
That didn't help my heartbeat calm down at all.
But before I could ask anything else, Henry pulled into the hospital parking lot.
I didn't wait for him to stop.
I opened the door and ran.
The fluorescent lights of the hospital stung my eyes as I rushed inside.
The receptionist looked up, startled. "Ma'am"
"Please," I gasped, leaning over the desk, "My mother...she needs surgery. They said they can't start without payment…"
"Miss Elena," Henry's calm voice came from behind me. "I'll handle it."
He stepped forward, producing a sleek black card. The receptionist blinked at the sight of it. Everyone always blinked at cards like that.
"I'm covering all charges," Henry said. "Process everything immediately."
"Yes… Yes, of course," the receptionist stammered, tapping quickly on her keyboard. "We'll alert the surgical team right away."
"Thank you," Henry replied.
But Words refused to come out.
My legs wobbled beneath me, barely holding me up.
A tightness crept up my throat, stealing the air before I could even breathe.
When the nurses began rushing toward the operating ward, pushing the stretcher with my mother on it, something in me shattered.
"Mom!" I cried, running beside her.
Her eyes fluttered open just a little. "Lena"
"I'm right here," I whispered, choking back tears. "You're going to be okay. They're going to help you now."
Her faint smile broke me.
"Don't cry, sweetheart."
The doors swung open, and a nurse gently stopped me from following.
"We'll take care of her."
I nodded weakly, watching as the doors closed again, leaving me in the hallway with nothing but fear pressing down on my lungs.
Henry placed a steady hand on my shoulder.
"Sit. Take a breath."
"I can't," I whispered, shaking.
"You have to," he said simply.
And somehow, I did.
Three hours passed.
Slow. Silent. Numb, each one dragging like a lifetime.
I sat, hands clenched so tightly my knuckles ached, a subtle tremble running through me.
Henry kept his distance, quiet, composed. Every so often, his eyes flicked to his watch, then to me, then straight ahead, saying nothing but somehow saying everything.
When the doors finally opened, I nearly fell trying to stand.
"Elena Hart?" the doctor called.
"Yes, yes, that's me," I rushed toward him, terrified.
The doctor pulled down his surgical mask, revealing a tired but warm smile.
"The surgery was a success."
I sobbed before I even understood the words fully.
My body folded forward, hands covering my face.
"Thank you," I cried. "Thank you so much."
Henry exhaled quietly behind me, as though he, too, had been holding his breath.
By the time they moved my mother to her recovery room, I felt like my legs were stuffed with wet sand. But I stayed. I stayed because I had to.
Henry walked into the hospital room where my mum and I were.
"Thank you," I said softly, standing up. "For everything, the payment, your help."
He shook his head gently. "Don't mention it."
There was a pause, calm, but full.
"I should get going," he added. "Take care of her. And yourself."
"I will," I nodded, offering a faint smile.
With that, he gave one last glance at my mum, then quietly stepped out.
Today was indeed exhausting.
A gentle ray of morning light spilled across the hospital room, warming the edge of the bed. I was already awake, sitting quietly beside my mother, watching her chest rise and fall.
Then, movement.
Her eyelids twitched. Slowly, uncertainly, they began to open.
My breath caught.
"Mum?"
Her gaze was hazy at first, unfocused. But she was awake.
Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. After everything, she was really back.
"Mom," I whispered.
Her lashes fluttered. "Lena… you're still here?"
"Where else would I be?" I tried to smile.
She touched my face weakly. "You look exhausted."
"I'm fine," I lied.
She looked around the hospital room.
Then back at me.
Then at the IV in her arm.
"Elena," she said softly, "how did you pay for all this?"
My heart stumbled.
"I… got help."
"What kind of help?"
"I'll explain later," I whispered, brushing her hair back. "Just rest now, okay?"
She wanted to push, but she was too weak.
Her eyes closed again.
I sat back, running a shaky hand through my hair.
What am I going to tell her?
What have I done?
The questions filled the air like thick smoke, but I refused to let them choke me. Not yet. Not now.
I stayed with her until my own eyes began to sting from exhaustion.
I must've dozed off. One moment I was watching her sleep, the next, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.
I blinked up, groggy.
"The call's for you," the nurse whispered, holding out my phone.
"A call?" I rubbed my eyes.
She handed me my phone, which I had left with her, after returning to the hospital.
"Hello?" I said.
A familiar voice answered.
"Miss Elena?"
I stiffened.
"Henry?"
"Yes."
He hesitated.
"Mr. Reyes requests to see you."
My stomach dropped.
"At the same building as yesterday," he added.
I swallowed hard.
"Why? Did something happen?"
"You signed a contract with him," Henry said quietly. "He wants to discuss what comes next."
What comes next.
The words made something cold crawl up my spine.
"When should I come?" I whispered.
"Now."
The line went silent.
And just like that, my life shifted again.
No way back.
I looked at my mother sleeping peacefully, unaware of the storm I had walked into.
Then I took a deep breath, stood up, and whispered to myself.
"This is the price I pay."