Chapter 1: Desperation

Roselyn Moore POV 

I ran into the hospital, my heart racing with fear and worry. The call I’d received an hour ago felt like a bad dream I couldn’t escape. I stumbled to the registration desk, struggling to catch my breath.

“I got a call that my dad has been admitted here,” I said, my voice shaking with anxiety.

The nurse looked at me kindly. “His name?” she asked, already typing on her computer.

“Kelvin Moore,” I replied, my voice trembling as I tried to calm my racing heart. 

“He's in the ICU, room 15. Please take the elevator or stairs to the second floor and turn right." she said, and a cold shiver ran down my spine at the word 'ICU'. 

I didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator, so I raced up the stairs, driven by a growing sense of anxiousness, praying he was alright and everything was going to be fine with him.

The hospital’s sterile corridors felt like they stretched on forever, my footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. The smell of antiseptic was overpowering, and my stomach churned with unease.

When I finally reached the ICU, I froze, gazing through the glass at a sight that made my heart skip a beat. My dad lay lifelessly on the bed, surrounded by tubes and wires, the steady beeping of the monitor the only indication that he was still breathing.

“Hi, are you the patient's family?" A gentle voice spoke beside me, and I turned to see a nurse staring at me.

"Yes, I'm his daughter.” I whispered, my voice cracking as my eyes welled up with unshed tears. A lump forming in my throat as I tried to stay composed.

“Please come with me to meet the doctor assigned to your father's case." The nurse said, her voice soft and sympathetic, leading me down the hall. 

My legs felt heavy as I walked, each step heavier than the last. My hands were quivering as I trailed behind her, my heart pounding with fear of what news I was about to receive concerning my dad.

We stopped in front of a door. The nurse knocked softly, entering the room and I follow suit.

Inside the office, a middle-aged man in a white coat looked up from a file.  

“Dr. Richard, the family of patient 15 is here to see you” the nurse announced before existing the room. 

"Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Richard, you must be Miss Moore?“ I nod. "Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. 

I sat down slowly, my heart in my throat. I looked at him with desperation, hoping for some assurance that my dad was going to be fine.

The doctor scanned through a file before meeting my gaze, with a grave expression.

"Honestly, Miss Moore, things are not looking good here." His words felt like a stab in my heart, leaving me numb.

"What…do you mean doctor?" I asked, my voice shaking at the possibility of losing my dad.

“Your father’s condition is extremely critical," he began, his voice low and serious.

"The accident caused seven broken ribs and a head injury. Although the head injury wasn’t severe, there’s still uncertainty about the extent of the damage. We’ve stabilized him for now, but there’s a significant chance he could slip into a coma; the next 72 hours are crucial."

My breath hitched as if I'd been punched in the gut by his words. 'Seven broken rips and coma'. The room spun as my mind kept repeating the words like a broken track record. I felt breathless as the thought of losing my dad was too much to bear. He was my anchor, the one person who had always been there for me.

“Miss Moore..." The doctor called out, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"We’re doing everything we can. I assure you, we’ll monitor him closely," he said with a comforting smile.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice sounding shallow to my own ears.

He nodded. "Please head down to the admissions department to finalize the paperwork."

I left the doctor's office in a daze, his words echoing in my mind. My dad, my hero, was fighting for his life, and there was nothing I could do. 

My heart aches even at the thought of losing him. I can't imagine my life without him by my side, he has been my anchor even since mom died from cancer. 

At the admissions department, I stood at the counter, clutching the clipboard with my dad’s forms. My hands shaky as I filled in the information, the fluorescent lights overhead casting an unforgiving sight. I couldn't get the image of my dad lying so helplessly in that bed from my mind.

The clerk, a woman with a kind smile, reviewed the forms on her computer. "Your father's insurance covers most of the initial costs, but there's still a required deposit for his immediate care." She said, her voice professional yet kind.

“How much?“ I whispered my voice soft but yet audible.

She glanced at the screen. "The total cost is $300,000. We’ll need a $50,000 deposit to start."

The clipboard almost slipped from my fingers as I heard the staggering amount of money needed for the deposit. I looked at her, my eyes widening in shock and my mind reeling. "Fifty thousand..." The words barely made it out of my lips. Where on earth was I supposed to get such an amount of money?

The clerk's face softened. "We can discuss payment plans, but time is critical. The sooner we receive the deposit, the sooner we can proceed with the necessary treatment."

I felt the unshed tears stream down my face, I can't afford to lose my dad. But how was I supposed to pay such an enormous amount?

I left the hospital feeling mentally drained, my surroundings felt distant around me. I reeled to the side, hailing a cab, my mind numb as I told the driver my office address.

How am I going to raise $50,000 in such a short time? I barely had $7,000 in my account, nowhere near what I needed. As the car sped through the busy streets, my heart thud in my chest and tears continue to stream down my face. The driver cast concerned glances my way, but I didn't care; I was too consumed by my desperate mental calculations. I could try selling some of my designs, but I doubted they'd fetch enough to cover the amount. 

The cab stopped abruptly in front of Harrison Clothing Collection, my thoughts scattered and my head throbbing with the impossibility of my situation. I got out of the cab and approached the sleek glass doors, and a wave of fear washed over me. 

I hadn’t notified anyone before rushing out, and my boss would undoubtedly be furious. I was dreading the confrontation I was sure to have with my boss, Mr. Harrison, who wasn't known for his kindness. I could already imagine his cold, disapproving gaze as I explained my situation.

I made my way into the building, silently praying that he wasn't in his office, maybe out for a meeting or lunch. As I quietly approached my desk, a cold voice stopped me on my track.

"And where do you think you’re coming from?" His chilly tone made me shudder.