Chapter 3: Going Crazy

After a lot of convincing from Dr. Monica, Dr. Glenda, and Laera, Eloise finally agreed to the DNA test—even though she thought it was ridiculous. Her heart burned with anger toward Glenda. With tightened lips, anger blazing through her eyes, she sat in the lounge.

“Who does she think she is? Coming in here like some kind of queen, saying my daughter isn’t mine, is she crazy?” Eloise snapped.

Laera glanced at her but didn’t say what she was really thinking. Something didn’t feel right, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it out loud.

“She’s my daughter. She’s mine.” Eloise’s voice softened with emotion as images of Alisha’s smile filled her mind. Her hands balled into fists. No matter what anyone said, no one was taking her child from her. And Glenda? She wasn’t getting forgiveness—not for this.

Suddenly, Eloise’s phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and frowned when she saw the name of her grandfather’s doctor on the screen. Her heart dropped. She swiped to answer.

“Hello?” she said.

Whatever she heard made her go pale. Without a word to Laera, Eloise jumped to her feet and ran.

“Eloise!” Laera called after her, confused and worried, but she stayed behind, waiting for Monica and Glenda.

The news had hit like lightning—fast, sharp, and devastating. Eloise didn’t stop to think. Her body moved on instinct, racing through sterile hospital corridors that now felt cold and endless.

She reached the ward where her grandfather was being treated. It was in a different wing of the hospital. The nurses looked up, startled by her panic, but didn’t stop her.

She pushed open the door and froze.

There he was.

His body lay still, covered. The air smelled like antiseptic, and the silence was loud.

“Grandpa?” Her voice shook. She reached for him, hands trembling.

He didn’t move.

She shook him gently, as if he’d wake up. But the body was cold—too cold.

“Grandpa?” Her voice broke. Tears poured down her face, her nose running, her chest so tight it hurt to breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said softly. “He asked us to give this to you.”

They handed her his wristwatch.

She broke down again, sobbing. It was his favorite watch—he never took it off. He believed in superstitions, in time, in the strange and unexplained. He was funny, full of life, and had a heart of gold.

(Flashback)

“Cute Pa!” Eloise had giggled, kissing his cheek.

“My favorite fox!” he grinned, using her nickname.

“Miss me?”

“Always, even though I saw you this morning.”

He pointed to his watch. “Haha, You’re jealous of this, aren’t you?”

“Totally,” she joked. “You love that thing more than me.”

“No,” he shook his head and burst into laughter, “don't you know time is precious, I have to always check the time, and sometimes when life seems so hard, and suffocating, your only rescue is time.”

(Back to present)

Eloise clutched the watch close to her chest and wept bitterly. Now, that precious watch was in her hand. He was gone. And so was the piece of her heart that lived with him.

Eloise felt utterly alone; This was the moment she needed Mason the most. This was the moment she wished at least Tamara, her best friend, would be by her side, cause she feared she might run out of air with how tightening and suffocating her chest felt.

****

Hours later, Eloise walked out of the ward like a ghost. Her face was streaked with dried tears, eyes swollen, nose red. Her hair was a mess, but she didn’t care. She felt hollow.

“Eloise.”

She stopped. Laera stood there with Monica and Glenda, all three wearing that look—the one people give when they’re about to say something that will break you.

Without saying anything, Monica held out a brown envelope.

Eloise stared at it for a few seconds, then took it with a shaky hand.

She opened it slowly.

Her eyes scanned the paper inside. It trembled in her grip.

“What is this?” she asked, her voice sharp and shaking.

She looked up at them, pleading. “This can’t be real. There’s a mistake!”

She shoved the paper back at them.

“It’s true, Mrs. Eloise” Monica said quietly. “Alisha isn’t your biological daughter.”

“Don’t! Stop saying that! She’s mine, so take this thing back.” Eloise’s voice cracked and her chest heaved.

“I don't know exactly how it feels, but I know it hurts, a truth no one would want to accept, but the result can't lie, Alisha's HFI also says a lot,” Monica added,

Eloise tried to speak, but no words came. Her knees gave out, and she sank to the floor.

The memories hit like a tidal wave. Alisha’s baby cries. Late-night feeds. Her little hand gripping Eloise’s finger. The first laugh. The milestones. Her daughter. How could she not be hers?

She clutched her chest. “No!” she cried out, the scream raw and deep. “I sang to h...She knows my voice... She cries when I leave the room...” Tears streamed down her face.

Glenda knelt beside her, her eyes welling up with tears as she watched Eloise cry out her soul, “I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I thought you knew, I thought your husband told you,”

“I’m so sorry,” Glenda whispered. “I thought you knew. I thought your husband told you.”

“Ma.mason? He knew?” she cracked.

Glenda nodded, sniffling.

Eloise’s whole body went cold.

“No. There is no way he’d knew and he couldn’t keep that from me.” Her voice was thin, desperate. “And this test,this paper—it’s fake! If she’s not mine, then who’s?”

Glenda looked at Monica, who gently said, “I think there’s only one person who can answer that.”

Laera added softly, “You need to talk to Mason.”