Three

Mr. Philip

The day had started uneventfully, much like any other. The morning sun filtered through the tinted windows of my car as I sat in the backseat, scrolling through emails on my tablet. My driver maneuvered through the familiar city streets, and two SUVs filled with bodyguards trailed behind. 

Suddenly, the car jerked violently, swerving left, then right, and then again, like a drunk man staggering in the dark. The tablet flew from my hands, crashing to the floor as I grabbed the edge of the seat to steady myself.

“What the hell is going on?” I barked, my voice rising in panic.

The driver, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, sir, but…the brakes have failed!” His voice cracked with fear as he struggled with the wheel.

“What?!” I roared, feeling a wave of dread wash over me. “How is that possible? Didn’t I tell you to inspect the car every morning?”

“I did, sir! Everything was fine when I checked it earlier. I…I don’t know how this happened!”

"You bloody fool!" I roared, my anger boiling over. "If I survive this, I swear your life will be miserable!"

Before I could hurl another insult, the car veered off the road, careening toward the dense foliage on the side of the highway. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. My hands, usually steady and commanding, trembled as I braced for impact.

“Hold on!” the driver screamed, his voice barely audible over the sound of screeching tires.

And then it happened. The car crashed through the undergrowth, smashing headlong into a massive tree. The impact threw me forward, and my head slammed against the seat in front of me. Pain shot through my skull, and my vision blurred. My ears rang with the sound of crumpling metal and muffled screams.

Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of a figure, a woman’s face hovering above me. Her lips moved, but her words seemed distant, as if spoken underwater.

“Sir! Sir, stay with me!”

“Help…me…” I murmured before everything went dark.

---

I awoke to a sterile white ceiling and the faint beeping of machines. My body felt heavy, but surprisingly, the pain was manageable. I turned my head slowly, wincing at the stiffness in my neck. My wife, Clara, sat beside me, her hands clasped tightly together. Relief flooded her face when she noticed I was awake.

“Thank God!” she exclaimed, leaning closer. “You’re awake. How are you feeling, honey?”

I groaned, trying to sit up, but a sharp ache in my ribs made me pause. Clara quickly moved to support me.

“What…what happened?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Why am I here?”

“You had an accident,” she said gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “But don’t worry, you’re going to be fine. A lady saved your life and brought you here in time.”

“A lady?” I repeated, frowning. “Who?”

“She’s in the waiting room. I’ll bring her in to meet you,” Clara said, standing up. Before leaving, she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

As I lay back against the pillows, trying to piece together the events, the door opened, and a middle-aged doctor walked in. His white coat swayed slightly as he approached with a clipboard in hand.

“Good day, Mr. Philip. How are you feeling now?” he asked with a professional smile.

“Better, I think,” I replied. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You should thank the lady who brought you in,” he said, jotting something down on his clipboard. “You lost a lot of blood. If she hadn’t acted quickly, things could have been much worse.”

I nodded, a flicker of curiosity sparking within me. Who was this woman who had risked her life to save mine?

The doctor continued, “Fortunately, your injuries aren’t severe. Just a minor concussion and some bruised ribs. You’ll be discharged tomorrow, but take it easy for the next few weeks.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said as he left the room.

Moments later, Clara returned with the woman who had saved me. She was young, perhaps in her late twenties, with sharp features and striking eyes that seemed to hold secrets. Her clothes were shabby, and her hands fidgeted nervously as she stood in the doorway.

“This is her,” Clara said warmly, gesturing for the woman to step forward.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, her voice soft and slightly trembling.

“Good afternoon,” I replied, studying her. “What’s your name?”

“Tina Henry,” she answered, lowering her gaze.

“I heard you saved my life,” I said, my tone neutral. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, sir,” she said quickly, waving off the gratitude.

Her humility caught me off guard. Most people would have jumped at the opportunity to bask in the glory of saving a wealthy businessman. But Tina seemed different; reserved, almost reluctant.

“What do you want in return?” I asked bluntly, expecting her to name a price.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head.

I raised an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Yes, sir. I only did what anyone else would have done,” she said, her voice firm but unassuming.

Before I could respond, her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, her expression shifting as she read the message. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Clara asked, alarmed.

“My landlord just sent me an eviction notice,” she sobbed. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Clara looked at me, her eyes pleading. I sighed, already anticipating where this was going.

“How much is your rent?” I asked. “I’ll pay it.”

“No, sir,” Tina said quickly, shaking her head. “I can’t accept money from you. I’m not a beggar.”

Her refusal irritated me. Was this some sort of game? But before I could say anything, Clara interjected.

“Why don’t you stay with us for a while?” she suggested.

“No, ma’am. I couldn’t impose like that,” Tina replied, wiping her tears.

“Nonsense,” Clara said firmly. “You saved my husband’s life. It’s the least we can do. Please, say yes.”

Tina hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Okay, ma’am. But only for three days.”

“Stay as long as you need,” Clara said with a smile.

As Tina thanked her, I watched the exchange with suspicion. There was something about Tina that didn’t sit right with me.

“No need for that. Three days is enough for me to accomplish my mission,” Tina said under her breath.

I stiffened. “Mission? What mission?”

“Oh!” She laughed nervously. “I meant finding a new place to live. That’s my mission.”

Her explanation didn’t convince me. But I just nodded, masking my unease.