Chapter 2: The Struggle

Getting home, my brother was waiting at the entrance, looking weary.  The look in his eyes alone told me all I needed to know.  He didn’t need to utter a word.

"Mom is asking for you," he continued, his voice cracking.  "She wants to see you."

My heart gripped terribly as I made my way to where she was.  When I saw her frail and linked up to machines.  The lady who had been my rock, my strongest supporter, suddenly appeared so little and vulnerable.

Her eyelids flickered open as I sat down beside her.  She stretched her hand and held mine.

"I am so sorry, sweetheart," she said as tears welled her eyes.  "I wanted so much more for you.  I wish I could have seen you triumph."

The pain in her words almost broke me.  I could feel the weight of her words deep down in me. I knew it wasn’t my fault, and as much as she needed the best for me, I recognised that I needed to be strong—not only for her but for myself, for my brother and my dying mother.

My mother’s comments got me weakened, realizing what had just befallen me, each sentence leaving behind a wound that no amount of time could cure.  I sat there, holding her hand, fighting back the tears that threatened to flow over.

"Don’t say that, Mom," I muttered, my voice shaking.  "You're going to be better."

She flashed me a weak smile, one that contained more pain than optimism.  "Sweetheart, life doesn't always go the way we plan, but it doesn’t mean we should give up."

I shook my head.  "Mom, I— I don’t even know where to start anymore.  Everything I worked for is gone.  The investors, the business, my reputation—"  My voice cracked.  "I’ve lost it all."

Mom squeezed my hand softly.  "No, you have not.  You still have yourself, and as long as you have it, you may rise again."

Her comments were supposed to be reassuring, but they simply made the agony in my chest intensify.  How could she still trust and hope for me when I had nothing left?  When the world had already determined my fate and tagged me as a failure.

A harsh knock on the door halted my meditation.  My brother, Daniel, popped his head inside.  "Isabella," he added nervously, "you should eat something.  You’ve been here for hours without eating anything."

I looked at Mom, but she gave me a little nod.  "Go, sweetie.  I’m not going away just yet."

With a sad heart, I stood and strolled out of the room.  Daniel followed, his expression grim.  "Sis, we need to talk about the hospital bills," he murmured once we were in the hallway.

My stomach hums.  I saw this coming, but I was not ready for it.  "How bad is it?" and how will I go about it now that I am left with nothing?

"Bad," he admitted.  "The doctor says if we do not settle at least part payment, they might stop treatment."

I exhaled, pressing a hand to my forehead.  "Where are we supposed to find that kind of money?  The business was my only hope, and now I have nothing to fall back to.”

Daniel sighed.  "I don’t know, but we have to figure out something fast."

As if the universe hadn’t already dealt with me enough, my phone buzzed.  I almost ignored it, but something told me to look at the screen. It was a call from an unknown number.

Frowning, I responded.  "Hello?"

"Isabella," a familiar voice purred over the speaker, sending an instant jolt of rage through me.

Clara.

I grabbed the phone so firmly I feared it might fracture.  "You have some nerve calling me after everything you did."

"I know you're upset," she remarked casually as if she had not entirely wrecked my career.  "But I called to help."

I scoffed.  "Help?  You wrecked me, Clara.  You propagate misinformation about my business.  You encouraged my investors to bail out.  And now you want to ‘help’?"

She sighed theatrically.  "Isabella, I did what I had to do, but that is in the past now.  What if I tell you there is a way to repair everything."

I hissed.  "I don’t have time for your games."

"Then make time and see me, I have an offer for you.  One that might fix all you have lost."  She laughed at her end.

I hesitated.  I wanted to hang up.  I should have, but desperation clawed at me, seeing my current situation.  "What kind of offer is she talking of?"  I questioned myself.

Clara’s voice softened.  "There’s someone who wants to meet you.  A guy who is interested in investing in your business.  A millionaire."

My heart hammered.  "Who?"

"You will find out when you meet him," she said.  "He has the resources to get your firm back on its feet.  Maybe much greater and better than before."

I swallowed hard.  This seemed too wonderful to be true, and coming from Clara, it probably was.

I narrowed my eyes.  "Why would you assist me?  What is your catch?"

She laughed softly.  "Let’s just say I have my reasons.  Do you want the meeting or not?"

Everything in me shouted not to trust her.  But what option did I have?  My mother was dying, the expenses were piling up, and my career was already in tatters.

"Fine," I responded stiffly.  "When and where?"

"I will send you the details," Clara said calmly.  "Don't be late."

The call went dead.

Will this meeting yield anything meaningful?

Find out in the next chapter!