Chapter 2: A Cry for Help

Roselyn Moore POV

I gulped, turning around to see him standing at the door, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me with annoyance, waiting for my response. 

“Where were you coming from?“ he reiterated, his voice containing so much authority, and it sent a shiver of fear flowing through me.

“Um ...I ….“ I stuttered, scared by his tone.

“I asked a question, Miss Moore,” he hollered, and I flinched. I swear I thought life went out of me at the loudness of his voice.

"I … had … a family emergency." I said nervously, lowering my head to avoid staring into his threatening hazel eyes. I hoped he would be understanding and show me some leniency.

“That's not enough reason for you to leave the office without notice." He didn't yell this time, but his voice still has that scary tone.

“I'm sorry, Sir, I promise it won't happen again." I apologised, my voice coming out softly as I reluctantly threw my gaze at this tall, muscular man who still glared at me. HIs sharp jawline seemed to visualise more as his piercing gaze shot onto my eyes. 

He’s indeed handsome. But … no … not to me. He’s not my type!

"It better not, bring me the files of the summer collection from Chicago office." he said, and I raised my head to see him disappearing into his office.

I heaved in relief as I quickly gathered the files he requested and scurried towards his office, eager to avoid further wrath. I knocked on the door, and when I heard his permission to come in, I hurriedly walked towards his desk.

“Sir, here are the files you asked for." 

"Put them on the desk," he muttered, typing rapidly on his laptop. 

“Miss Moore.” 

I was about to leave his office when his frosty voice stopped me in my tracks, my hand frozen on the doorknob.

“Yes, Mr. Harrison." I said with a bitter face, turning around to face him. My heart racing as I stare at him nervously, hoping he wasn't about to scold me again.

"Coffee."

"Right away, Sir," I scampered out of his office to the coffee room.

Once I was done attending to him, I went back to my desk to continue the day's task. I tried concentrating on the work in front of me, but my mind kept drifting off to my dad's. 

I fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall out of my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I tried to keep my emotions in check and not breakdown, as I needed to stay professional and focused while I'm at work. 

The hours tick by, and before I knew it, the workday was over. I switched off my computer after I was sure I'd gone through the work needed to be done. I gathered my things and took my bag, leaving the office to head home, where I could confront my emotions and the news concerning my dad.

The cab pulled up to the familiar area, and I got out onto the sidewalk. After paying the driver, I made my way towards the house. I noticed the lights were turned on, which meant Sophie was already at home. 

I walked into the house, and I heard the clatter of utensils, and I made my way towards the kitchen. 

“Hey, Sophie.” I greeted, stepping into the kitchen. 

“Oh Rose, finally you're home. Go freshen up, dinner will be ready in a few minutes." She said, her focus on what she's cooking as she stirred into the pot. 

“How was your trip?“ I asked, taking a seat on the kitchen stool. I recalled that she had gone on a business trip to report on the recent earthquake in a rural area.

She turned to look at me, her face shining with excitement. “It was good, thankfully there weren't many casualties, and the people there were really nice, I had a great time trying their local dishes, and...“

“Rose," she called softly, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Uh, yeah?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as my emotions threatened to overflow.

"Hey, is everything okay?" She asked, her voice soft and laced with concern as she took in my troubled expression. 

"No." I shook my head, whimpering. 

She turned off the stove, pulling a stool next to me. “What's wrong?“

"Was it something at work?" She inquired, her brow knitted in concern, and my eyes welled up in tears as the events of today's incident replayed in my mind.

I finally let go, allowing the tears and emotions to flow freely as I sobbed out all the pain and hurt.

"You're scaring me, Rose." Her voice tinged with concern, pulling me into a warm hug.

"Did your boss say something horrible to you?" she asked, but I shook my head, indicating it wasn't anything related to him. 

"No?" she asked, her voice filled with worry and confusion as she pats my back gently.

"Then what's wrong?" She pressed, but I just continued to cry, burying my face in her shoulder, finding comfort in her warm embrace.

When I had finally calmed down, I pulled out of her embrace, taking a deep breath, and I told her about the devastating call I received at work. 

"My dad got into a car accident, and he is in the hospital," I sniffed, my voice trembling as I recounted the incident.

"The doctors say there's a chance he could fall into a coma if he doesn't wake up soon." I paused, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall out. 

"And to make matters worse, the treatment is going to cost a fortune, more than I could afford."

"I can't lose my dad, Soph, he's all I had." I sobbed, tears streaming down from my face. 

"He means the whole world to me. I can't imagine living without him in my life," I burst out in tears.

"Hey, calm down, your dad is a fighter, I'm sure he's going to pull through and get better." Sophie said, her voice filled with reassurance as she wrapped me in a warm hug.

"And don't worry about the hospital bills, we'll figure something out. I can ask my colleagues at work for help or talk to my boss about getting a raise. We'll get through this together." She said with determination.

"Thanks, Sophie," I said, feeling a glimmer of hope.

"I'm thinking of visiting the bank tomorrow at lunch to apply for a loan, and also ask for an advance on my salary from my boss. But I'm not sure if he'll agree or if the bank will grant me the loan."

"I'm sure things will work out, and we'll get through this," she offered a comforting smile.

"Don't worry too much about it, okay? Come on, freshen up, and let's have dinner. We'll figure everything out together, one step at a time."

After we were done with dinner, I went to my room and did my nighttime routine. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, and the image of my dad lying in the hospital haunted me. 

I tried closing my eyes to sleep, but I couldn't. I kept tossing around on the bed, worried about my dad. I stood up and decided to draw some designs, as it gives me a calming effect. I took out my sketchpad from my dresser and drew for a while. 

I drifted off to sleep with silent prayers for my dad's recovery, hoping he would wake up soon.

**********

The morning seemed to drag on slowly as I kept glancing at the clock eagerly waiting for lunchtime. And when it finally hit 12pm, I quickly arranged my desk, gathered my things, and left for the bank.

I pushed open the heavy glass door, stepping into the bank's cool, air-conditioned interior. This was my first time applying for a loan, and I desperately hoped it would be approved. 

Taking a deep breath, I approached the loan officer's desk, trying to look confident despite my trembling hands.

"Hi, I would like to apply for a loan, please." I said, with a weak smile.

The officer, a middle-aged woman with a stern expression, looked at me up and down before nodding curtly. “Very well. Let's see your employment details and income proof."

I handed her my documents, explaining that I had been working as a secretary for three months.  

"Just three months? You're still in your probation period. What makes you think you can repay the loan?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. 

I took a deep breath, trying to exude confidence. "I understand it is a risk, but I can take an extra job to help repay the loan." I said nervously, fidgeting my fingers.

"I'm afraid we can't take that risk. You don't have a stable income history, and your credit score is nonexistent. We can't approve your loan application." She sighed, shaking her head.

“Please, my dad has been hospitalised, and I need the money to take care of his treatments." I pleaded, feeling a stinging sensation in my eyes as I fought back my tears.

Her expression turned sympathetic. "I'm sorry, dear. Maybe try another bank or explore other options. But we can't take the risk." she said, her voice soft but firm.

I left the bank, feeling defeated and disheartened. The bright sunlight outside seemed cruel, mocking my failed attempt. 

I have no other option than to confront the devil to save my dad. Will he accept my request?