Chapter 4 : That Day

*Amelia*

*I slumped against the headboard of my bed and surveyed the scene before me. Multiple textbooks, a few highlighters, freshly sharpened pencils arranged in a neat row, and my notepad littered with notes were all laying on my comforter. I had been studying for hours but still felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information needed for this semester's final exams. My second year of law school had been the most brutal yet.

I stood and walked to get my third cup of coffee when my cell phone began to ring. I picked it up and saw it was Heart of St. Francis Hospital, and my heart lurched in my chest, "Hello?"

The nurse on the other line spoke quickly, her voice laced with urgency, "Ms. Hartley?"

I began to feel panicked by the tone the nurse's voice was conveying, and I was barely able to squeak out, "This is she."

The nurse spoke again, "We need you to get over here right away."

"What's going on? Is my mother okay?" I asked, hot fresh tears developing in the corner of my eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Hartley. She's gone," my vision went black as the nurse confirmed my worst fears.

I leaned over and dry heaved into the trash can beside my bed, dropping my phone onto the cheap, stained white carpet below me.

Gone? How could she be gone? I had just talked to her the day before yesterday, and she had said she was feeling better. She had stage three cancer, but she had been in the hospital for a month getting treatment that was supposed to shrink the tumors so she could have surgery to remove them.

The pharmaceutical company spoke about the new medicine like it was an advancement that would change cancer diagnoses forever, and my mother seemed to be responding very well. Her entire oncology team had spoken about the success they'd had so far in shrinking the masses, what the hell had happened?

I heaved and dry-heaved until my stomach was empty. As I stumbled away from the trash can, I clung to the wall for support. My hands quivered as I reached across the room for my keys, which lay atop the dresser in a pile of scattered documents.

I rushed out the door and into my car, tears streaming down my face as I sped toward the hospital. I kept trying to convince myself that this was a mistake, that my mother was still alive, and that there had to have been some kind of confusion or mix-up. Deep down I knew it wasn't. A rock had formed in the pit of my stomach, and the dread increased every mile closer I got.

I drove through town with my headlights cutting through the darkness of night, the street lights casting shadows on the pavement. Cars zipped past me, their engines roaring as they raced by, leaving a trail of exhaust and car horns behind them. The drive felt like an eternity even though I was going well over the speed limit.

My mind raced with questions: Why hadn't they called me when she started to decline? Had it happened that suddenly? Did my mother pass alone and wondering where her only daughter was?

I passed all of the familiar sights that I had driven past over the last month while my mom had undergone the treatments, and I felt sick realizing this would be the last time I made this drive. With my mom gone, I wouldn't have to come back to this side of the city. Soon, the towering hospital came into view. Instead of the hopeful beacon it usually was, it looked imposing and dark.

The parking lot was mostly empty, and I was lucky enough to find a spot right by the main entrance. The cold air bit at my skin as I stepped out of my car and made my way inside. I approached the reception desk only to realize it was vacant. It was past visiting hours, so I had to find someone to escort me upstairs to her room.

I stood still, trying to figure out what to do next, when I heard a familiar voice come from behind me, "Amelia?"

I spun around to find Dr. Mark Sullivan, my mom's head oncologist, standing there. His face was filled with sadness and regret that only a medical professional could possess when they know someone has passed away.

"Dr. Sullivan," I said, my voice shaking. He stepped forward and took both of my hands in his, squeezing them gently.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," he said softly as tears welled up in his eyes.

My heart felt like it had been shattered in two, and I couldn't help but break down and beg him to tell me what had happened. He sighed heavily before leading me over to a nearby bench and sitting down beside me.

He told me that shortly after I spoke to my mom, she had taken a turn for the worse. Her tumors were growing faster than they were shrinking, and her body was starting to give out. The medical team tried everything they could think of to save her, but nothing worked. In the end, she simply couldn't fight anymore.

I cried as he explained what had happened, not sure how I was going to move forward without my mother in my life. Dr. Sullivan sat with me until I stopped shaking from the sobs.

"There's something you should know," Dr. Sullivan told me.

Dr. Sullivan took a deep breath and I watched guilt appear in every facet of his demeanor, "The experimental medication given to your mother as an attempt to save her, was originally intended for use on animals. It was a fringe treatment that should have never been tried out on humans in its current state of development, and I shouldn't have taken such a risk with your mother's health. The pharmaceutical company assured me that it was safe, and I was so hopeful to have something to try, I ignored my gut. I think it caused the rapid growth of the tumors, and I'll never forgive myself for what happened."

The revelation filled me with rage, not at Dr. Sullivan, but at the pharmaceutical company for lying about the safety of the medicine to make money off of the sick. I can’t help but think of all the other unsuspecting patients that have had to suffer the same fate, and how many more will continue to do so if someone doesn't stop them.

Still, my heart aches for the doctor, knowing he must feel terrible about what had happened. I hugged him before standing up and thanking him for his honesty. Dr. Sullivan then gently put his arm around me and guided me toward the hallway leading to my mother's room. As we walked, I couldn't help but notice how silent the hospital was compared to how it usually was, it looked imposing and dark.

Dr. Sullivan stopped in front of a door with a little placard that read "Hartley" on it. He opened the door and led me inside my mother's room. The room was filled with all of her favorite things - her cross-stitch collection on one wall, a stack of books she had been reading in bed on the table beside her, and an old record player playing some soft jazz music that she loved so much. Tears stung my eyes as I saw the evidence of her life still lingering everywhere I turned. I stepped closer to the bed to take one last look at my mom, lying peacefully beneath the sheets - her face etched with worry even in death. Tears started streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably once again. Dr. Sullivan placed his hand on my shoulder gently as he said goodbye too, tears shining in his eyes as well before quietly closing the door behind him as he left us both alone together one last time.*

I bolted upright in bed, the sheets drenched with sweat, my heart pounding. The shaking was so intense I felt like I was about to vibrate right out of my skin. It was the same horror-filled nightmare that had haunted me ever since my mother passed away.

I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, my mind still in a fog from the nightmare. The clock on the wall read 5:00 a.m. - it seemed like I would never get a good night's sleep again. I poured myself a glass of water and sat down at the table, staring blankly at the wall. I allowed myself to go through the grief of losing my mother once more, then I pulled myself together to get ready for my meeting with Adrian. The case against MID was finally coming to fruition, and I needed to make sure they never got to rip a family apart again.

I took a deep breath and moved to the bathroom to prepare for the day. I carefully applied my makeup, starting with primer and foundation to even out my skin tone. I opted for a classic look that would be professional yet sexy: winged eyeliner and dark lashes, dramatic brows, and a bold lip. I curled my hair to give it some volume and ran some product through it for texture.

I walked over to my closet and rummaged through the clothes until I found what I was looking for, a form-fitting black dress with intricate white lace detailing along the bodice and hemline. I slipped it on carefully, then added some finishing touches. I grabbed a pair of high-heeled black pumps from the back corner of my closet and slid them on with a satisfied smile.

I glanced at the clock one last time before grabbing my keys and heading out the door. As I drove toward the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. If this didn't go well, Adrian could decide that he'd be better off working alone, and I could lose the chance for revenge.

I rounded the last corner of my drive and saw the looming courthouse come into view. My nerves were shot as I parked the car and took a deep breath before stepping out and making my way inside. The marble floors echoed with the sound of my heels as I walked toward the meeting room, my mind racing with possible outcomes.

Right before I reached the hallway where Adrian's office was, my boss Michael stopped me.

"Amelia, you're here early. Are you ready for the first day of the trial against Halsey's Inc.?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to seem excited about the case, "Yes. We have an airtight case, and Mr. Johnson should be able to get justice for the accident. They were blatantly disregarding safety protocol, and it's well documented."

Michael smiled, "That's great to hear. I should know better than to worry about your preparations. If there's anything you've proved since starting here, your thoroughness is flawless."

I fought a blush that tried to paint my cheeks, "Thank you. I appreciate the vote of confidence."

We said a few pleasantries, parted ways, and I continued my walk to Adrian's office. I approached the large wooden door with the cloudy glass window and felt sick to my stomach with nerves.

I walked into the reception area, and Evelyn was typing away on her computer. She looked up at me and smiled, "You're early, Ms. Hartley. Take a seat, please. He'll be ready for you in just a moment."

I nodded and sat down in one of the plush chairs, picking up a law magazine from the coffee table in front of me. I idly flipped through the pages, my mind unable to focus on anything other than the pictures.

Time passes, and soon, Evelyn announced, "He's ready for you."

I rose from my seat, grabbed my briefcase, and walked the short distance to his office door. I gripped the handle of the door tightly before pushing it open and stepping inside.