Chapter 3 - Amyra

Anna's POV

Five years later…

“Mommy, look! The windows are rainbow today.” Amyra called out immediately I stepped into the living room, holding up a paper. She had a half finished drawing of a big hospital on it, tiny hearts decorated every door. “So the sick kids can smile even when the doctors are busy.”

I crouched beside her, heart already full. “It’s perfect, baby.”

She grinned, showing the little gap where a front tooth had fallen out last week. Then she pressed her small hand against her chest, just for a second, the way she always did when the familiar tightness came. I watched her sadly. Some minutes later, she continued drawing.

As a mother, I felt like a failure!.

She was just few weeks old when she was diagnosed with a congenital heart condition and all I could do as a mother was watch her in pain while our hospital bills kept on piling up.

“Does it hurt?” I asked quietly.

Amyra shook her head. “Just a little squeeze. Like when you hug me too tight.” She leaned against my leg. “But I’m okay. I’m going to build a real hospital when I grow up. There will be no more squeezes for anyone.”

I kissed the top of her soft curls and stood up before the tears could reach my eyes. The latest hospital letter sat on the kitchen counter, the numbers still sharp in my mind. Three thousand dollars, due in two weeks!.

My parents’ business was barely enough to keep the lights on these days. We all worked every hour we could, but it was never enough.

Amyra followed me into the kitchen, her drawing still in her hand. “Grandma said if I help fold the scarves today, I can sing for the customers.” She climbed onto a chair and swung her legs. “Can I wear the yellow dress? The one with the stars? It makes my voice happier.”

“Of course you can.”

She beamed and slid down, already running toward her room. I heard her humming a song, something about hope.

At the boutique, Mama was already unlocking the front door. Papa stood behind the pharmacy counter next door, sorting bottles with the same careful hands he had used for thirty years. Amyra burst in wearing the yellow dress, crayon smudged on her cheek.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Mama said, bending to hug her. “Ready to work?”

Amyra nodded seriously. “I’m going to fold the soft ones first. The soft ones make people feel better.” She looked up at me. “Mommy, can I draw a hospital on the paper bags? So when people buy medicine they remember the sick kids?”

Papa chuckled from the doorway. “Smart girl. Always thinking.”

I watched her settle at the small table near the window, carefully arranging crayons. Customers came and went. Amyra sang softly while she drew, her voice floating through the shop like sunlight. A woman buying a scarf stopped to listen and left an extra tip in the jar. Another asked for a copy of the little hospital drawing. Amyra gave it away with a proud smile.

Between customers I checked my phone. No new messages. No miracles. Just the same old worry sitting heavy in my chest. The unpaid hospital bill waited at home like a quiet threat. I had applied to every job listing I could find in the past month, anything that paid better than helping at the boutique. Nothing had come back.

Near closing time Amyra climbed into my lap, tired but still cheerful. “Mommy, when I build the hospital, you’ll be the boss nurse. And Grandma can sell pretty scarves in the gift shop. And Papa can make the medicine that stops the squeezes.” She patted my cheek. “You won’t have to be sad about the bills anymore.”

I held her tighter. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

She shrugged, small and wise. “Because I’m five. And I listen.”

My personal phone rang in my pocket.

I shifted Amyra to one arm and answered. “Hello?”

A clear, professional woman’s voice spoke. “Good afternoon. Am I speaking with Miss Anna Li?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“This is the HR Department at Mo Ting Globals. We’re calling regarding your application. We would like to invite you for an interview.”

My jaw dropped…