Chapter 1

***Six months earlier***

____Phone Beeps_____

*****Emma*****

Today was like every other day for me, although there was something special today. My morning started with my phone beeping with both text messages and threatening calls from my father's creditors and it had been my alarm for the past few days.

My mother, Jane Parker, and I had just moved to New York City after my father passed away, leaving us with debts to settle. I wanted a fresh start for myself and my mother, and this came with the hope of getting my dream job.

I had an interview with Brooks Modelling Agency, an interview I had prayed and fasted to get and now it was here. I wanted to make the best first impression, so I woke up earlier than usual, did my house chores, and got dressed for the interview an hour earlier.

With nothing else to do, but just wait, I brought out my phone and began surfing the internet for past audition videos, and also to perfect my cat-walking skill, as I rehearsed.

“Mum!” I called, as the sun was already out and my mother was still in her room, which was unlike her. I went on to what I was doing but was startled by a loud thud coming from the direction of my mother's room and I rushed, only to be shocked to see her lying almost lifeless on the floor. 

Fear enveloped me as this was the last thing I expected to happen on the day I had tagged as the best day since I moved to New York. 

In panic, I rushed to her and tried to give her first aid, but all my efforts seemed fruitless. The fall was so hard that it gave her a bruise on her wrist, making her lose blood fast. 

In a panic, I called the emergency team, “Please come to number fourteen Crescent Street, my mum just passed out and is bleeding profusely,” and they responded in time and rushed her to the hospital. I was wearing a white tank top, high-waist jeans, and strappy heel sandals, as directed by the interviewers, and in shock, I was oblivious to the fact that my white top had been blood-stained a little.

I rushed to the hospital to find out why my mother passed out, hoping that it was something minor, but what I heard threw me into a frenzy.

‘Oh God please let this be something minor, as I do not have the funds to carry any financial burden,’ I thought and prayed as I sobbed silently.

“Miss Parker,” a nurse called for the fifth time, bringing me back to reality. 

“Sorry to bother you, but the doctor demands to see you,” she said as she directed me to the doctor's office. Wiping my tears, I made my way to the office.

As I stepped inside, the sterile scent of medical equipment filled my senses, and my heart raced in anticipation. The doctor's somber expression hinted at the gravity of the situation.

"Your mother has cancer and needs to be admitted immediately," the doctor said, his words hanging heavily in the air, each syllable landing like a weight upon my chest. The world around me seemed to blur as the reality of the statement sunk in. Admitted immediately – the urgency of the situation echoed in those words.

My grip tightened on the edge of the chair, my knuckles turning white. At that moment, a swirling mix of disbelief and denial consumed me. I stared at the doctor, my gaze a mix of shock and defiance. The room seemed to spin, and my mind struggled to process the unfathomable news. This couldn't be real; it was a nightmare I was desperate to wake up from.

“I am sorry you are finding out this way, but it seems like Mrs. Parker already knew she had cancer,” the doctor said, throwing me into more confusion.

“What?”

We settled in a brief silence that felt unending…

“You heard correctly, she wasn't surprised when I told her and she informed me herself that she had known for a while,” the doctor affirmed.

“That… that can't be true, doctor. My mother would tell me if she had cancer. She wouldn't hide much from me, I am sure about that. So please do not make up stories,” I pleaded, my words coming out as I sobbed quietly, hoping that it was all false.

“I think you should go see your mother and talk with her, as she alone has all the explanation you need. Just see me as soon as possible, so we can start the process of admitting her and commence treatment,” the doctor informed.

I felt a mix of fear and sadness at the news; my life was on the verge of taking shape, and my mother was about to die. As I took slow steps down the hallway to my mother's room, my once clear vision became blurry by a haze of unshed tears and deep thought, as my head banged from the news of cancer.

The thought of paying debts, and now outrageous hospital bills were now the least of my problems, as the thought of losing my mother struck me hard and differently. Embracing myself, I made my way into my mother's room. She was being attended to by a nurse so I took a seat close by to wait.

“Everything seems okay now, madam. I will be back to check up on you,” the nurse informed as she made her way out of the room.

I was too nervous to stand up from where I sat to my mother's side as the news still hurt my heart; all I did was offer my mother a bright smile from where I sat.

“Baby girl, I am fine and you do not have to bother about me. You can start going for your interview now and I am sorry for making you worry about me,” my mother said as she tried to sit up.

“So what did the doctor say is wrong with you?” I questioned curiously, but as expected, my mother lied about the issue.

“Nothing serious, just malaria and dehydration. I will be fine, princess, you can go now,” she insisted.

I took a glance at the wall clock and realized I still had thirty minutes. I stood up from where I sat and walked closer to my mother's side.

“I know everything, Mum, so you don't have to keep lying to me about anything,” I said as I tried to control my tears.

“What do you mean by that, princess?”

“I spoke with the doctor's mother, and he told me you have cancer and that you have had it for the longest time. Why didn't you tell me about this? How could you keep me in the dark?” Finally letting my emotions get the best of me, I sobbed my soul out.

“Stop crying, please. You don't want to have puffy eyes and a fat cheek for your interview,” she said as she sobbed quietly with me.

“Your father and I wanted to tell you, but we couldn't. You were so full of joy that we didn't want to see you sad. We both waited for the perfect time to tell you, but it never came, as your father passed on tragically. I am sorry for not telling you sooner,” she continued as she tried to console me.

Taking a long sniff and drying off my tears, I yielded into my mother's console and let out a fake smile just to appease her.

“It's fine, mother. I have to look pretty to get the job, right? I have father's debts to settle and now medical bills,” I mentioned with pain evident in my voice.

“Talking about your father's debt, there is something you also need to know about that. He took all those loans for my treatment, so please do not hate him any longer, but rather hate me as I brought this upon us, upon you,” my mother confessed as little tears rolled down her cheek that without being told I could feel her broken heart.

I found it hard to believe what I just heard. I had hated my father for over six months since he passed away, thinking he left me in debt due to the reckless life he lived. Now knowing the truth, I found it hard to believe and simultaneously hated myself for having to bear all that grudge towards him.

Clenching my fist and faking a smile, I placed a comforting kiss on my mother's forehead, assuring her that everything would be fine.

“Do you intend to leave with that blood-stained top?” she asked, finally drawing my attention to the stain on my clothes. The day couldn't get worse for me, but still, I acted cool in front of my mother.

“I will handle it, Mother, just rest and pray for me also,” I said and left. I made my way to the restroom and let out a loud scream at the top of my lungs, wanting to let go of all the pains and emotions brewing up within me. I was also lucky to have carried along a mini jacket that I used to cover up the bloodstain.

Fortunately, I arrived five minutes early as the venue for the interview was not too far from the hospital. As expected, the interview began, and I couldn't help but feel as though I had passed the audition already. The only thing that bothered me was the stain.

I met all physical criteria, ranging from the required height of a minimum of 6 feet to the required weight and size, and above all, I was a beauty to behold as my chocolate skin glowed even in the dark.

Given a number tag, we all walked in to be judged. I was asked to take off the jacket along the line, or I would not be allowed on stage, and that gained me mixed reactions that faulted the confidence I came with.

The agency wanted to recruit only three main models and five substitute models. Rooting to be accepted as one of the main models, I did everything perfectly. My boldness and courage were top-notch, and so was my catwalking. I answered all questions perfectly and impressed the judges to the maximum. I had already graded myself, but when the names were called, I was shocked that I didn't even make it to the list of substitute models.

Knowing I had bills to pay, I wasn't just going to leave the venue like that as I needed an explanation.

Running into one out of the four judges, I began bombarding her with questions upon questions, making the lady feel so uncomfortable that she had to call security on me.

*****

"You don't have to cry, I also didn't make it to the list even though I know I deserved it, but you don't see me crying around like a baby. There would be better opportunities," a voice spoke.

Confused as to who it was, I raised my head to behold a beautiful light-skinned lady I had seen earlier, one of the models who auditioned. I had anticipated Hilda to be among those to be picked.

"You are joking, right?" I managed to say as I wiped my tears.

"No, I'm not. I didn't make even the substitute list, and yeah, it sucks, but I'll be fine and there will be better opportunities."

"What could be better than being one of the Brooks models? They are the best agency in the whole of New York City, and they are a great stepping stone to having a great modeling career anywhere in the world," I retorted.

"You're right. I'm Hilda, by the way. I was about to leave and saw how you approached the judge; that was so bold of you," she commended, leaving a smile on my face.

"I'm Emma, and I was just so frustrated about the whole incident. I really need this money as I have a lot of debts to settle and also my mother's hospital bill," I began speaking uncontrollably as I let my emotions get the best of me, complaining and leaving no stone unturned.

I wasn't even aware I was giving out too much information until Hilda cleared her throat, bringing me back to reality. I went on to apologize about speaking too much, but Hilda reassured me it was fine.

"Rather than sitting here and crying, you better go start looking for a job as you have a lot to do with money. I'll be going now, have a nice day," Hilda said.

We both hugged goodbye. “Don't forget you are not the problem, the system here is just so corrupt and most of those ladies did things behind the scenes to be picked," she whispered into my ears and turned around to leave.

For a moment, I had thought I was rejected because of the color of my skin, but seeing Hilda, the thought changed. Hilda was so light-skinned and white in every way one could imagine. 

"I guess the system is just corrupt," I murmured to myself. Turning to leave, I accidentally bumped into someone whom I recognized, as he sat as one of the judges.

Nervously, I apologized but was thrown off balance when the young lad gave me his card and insisted I call later in the evening before walking out.

Just as I left the venue and headed to the hospital, I received a letter congratulating me for being accepted as a leg model for my outstanding catwalk and beautiful long legs. It was nothing much and to some extent felt like an insult to me, but it was something, as I anticipated building my way up from there. The pay attached was nothing much but was decent.

Suddenly a notification popped up, and I mumbled and silently wished it was me. That would solve all of my financial problems. I didn't like the CEO, but I was desperately in need of his money.

"Brooks CEO's bride-to-be to be unveiled soon."

Staring at the card I got earlier, I took a heavy sigh, placed it in my bag, and made my way out of the building.