Arya's POV
I couldn't recall leaving the boutique or how I ended up in a cab. All I knew was I needed to get to the hospital. Losing my brother was the last thing I wanted—especially not on my birthday.
"Lord, please don't let me lose Andrew too," I prayed under my breath, my heart pounding violently in my chest.
Every second felt like it was slipping through my fingers.
The car barely came to a complete stop before I thrust the fare at the driver.
I pushed the door open and rushed out, already running toward the entrance.
"Hey! Your change!" the driver called after me.
I stopped, and for a split second, I almost kept going.
Then I turned back and ran to him.
As much as I wanted to get to Andrew in time, I needed money to keep him alive.
And every penny counted.
I turned and ran again, faster this time, my chest tightening with every step as the hospital entrance came into view.
"Watch it—"
I didn't react fast enough.
I slammed into something solid, the impact knocking the breath out of me as I staggered back a step.
"I—I'm so sorry," I said quickly, the words tumbling over themselves as I looked up.
My heart stopped when I locked eyes with a pair of cold blue eyes staring down at me.
For a second, everything else faded: the noise, the movement, and even the panic clawing at my chest.
He was tall, easily towering over me. And there was something about him… something commanding. From the perfectly tailored suit to the quiet authority in the way he stood, everything about him screamed power.
For a heartbeat, I almost forgot why I was there. Then reality came crashing back.
Andrew.
"I'm really sorry," I said again, lowering my gaze immediately.
I didn't wait for him to respond. I had already wasted enough time. I hurried past him and pushed through the glass doors, my pulse racing even harder now.
By the time I got to Andrew's room, my chest was heaving.
Relief nearly buckled my knees when I saw him still lying there, surrounded by machines that beeped in a steady rhythm. The sound was the only proof he was still alive.
"I'm not going to let you die. Never." My voice trembled as I grabbed his hand.
Just then, the door opened, and Dr Harris walked in. He stopped at the foot of the bed, clutching a tablet.
"The receptionist informed me you were here," he said quietly. "I'm sorry to be the one to say this, but the administration has reached its limit. The hospital cannot continue to carry the cost of Andrew's care without a substantial deposit."
"Please… don't let him die," I pleaded, my eyes flicking back to Andrew's motionless body. "He's your patient."
The doctor sighed, looking at the wall instead of at me. "We've extended the grace period as far as the board allows. Technically, his insurance expired thirty days ago."
I shook my head, my vision blurring with tears. "But you said I had until the end of the week. I still have a few days."
"The timeline has shifted," he said, his voice lowering. "The hospital is undergoing a federal audit in forty-eight hours. The Medical Director has begun flagging unfunded long-term beds. He's instructed the ethics committee to approve transfers to state facilities by the end of today."
"No!" My voice cracked. "I'll pay. I'll find the money. Please, I promise."
Andrew was the only family I had left. I couldn't let them do this to him. A state facility wouldn't have the equipment he needed. It was a slower death sentence.
The doctor studied me, a flicker of pity crossing his face. "You've been saying that for over a month."
"I know," I whispered. "I've been trying. I swear, I've been trying. I can talk to the Director. I'll make him understand."
He shook his head quickly. "I wouldn't advise that. If you approach him now, he may accelerate the process to clear the books before the auditors arrive."
"Please, help me," I sobbed, the strength leaving my legs as I sank to my knees. "Please. He's all I have. Don't let them move him."
"Please, stand up," he said, glancing toward the door as if worried someone might walk in.
When I didn't move, he let out a long breath. "I'm not making any promises, but I can try to stall the transfer temporarily. You'll need to act fast. Once those auditors arrive, my hands are tied. You have less than forty-eight hours to make a substantial payment."
Forty-eight hours.
To save my brother's life.
I turned back to Andrew, tightening my grip on his cold hand. "I won't lose you," I whispered. "I promise."
Deep down, I had no idea how I'd keep that promise.
My salary barely covered the essentials.
Then my heart skipped a beat when I realised I'd left work without permission and hadn't told Derek or anyone else.
"I'm sorry, I have to get back to work. I'll be back with the money," I told the Doctor as I hurried out of the room.
As I waited for the elevator, I tried calling Derek but got no answer. My stomach tightened. I quickly typed a message apologising for leaving and explaining the situation.
When the doors slid open, I stepped in and realised I wasn't alone.
A man in a white coat stood inside, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as if about to step out, then paused.
"Miss Winters?" he asked, glancing between me and his phone.
I glanced at him uneasily. "Who's asking?"
"I'm Dr Mark," he said as the elevator began to move. "I run the fertility unit upstairs."
That didn't explain how he knew my name, but I gave a short nod. I was too distracted to question it.
"I heard about your brother. I'm sorry about your situation."
My stomach twisted. "Thank you," I replied quietly.
Silence stretched between us, then he broke it almost as soon as it started. "I can help you pay your brother's bills."
I turned immediately. "What?"
His expression remained calm. "I can help you."
My brows drew together. "How? And why would you help me?"
The elevator slowed, and the doors slid open. However, neither of us moved.
"It's a job," he said. "One that can cover your expenses."
My heart began to race.
"What kind of job?"
"Surrogacy."