Chapter three

Chapter 3

ELENA'S POV 

“Elena." 

I turned, groaning as I placed a hand over my ear, trying to drown out the voice calling my name. 

“Not now," I mumbled, my face squeezed as I tried pulling myself back to sleep. 

“Elana, wake up." 

I shot my eyes open, blinking at the figure standing in front of me. As my blurry vision cleared, I found Clara staring down at me with a worried look across her face. She wasn't wearing her scrubs anymore, and had her bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Clara?" I mumbled, a small frown forming on my face. “You're not in your uniform." 

“Yeah," Clara answered, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears. “I'm actually heading home now. I'm done with my shift." 

My frown deepened as her words hit me. “You’re done with your shift?" I asked and she nodded. "Fuck.”

I grunted as I shot up from the hospital seat I had crashed on last night. My neck ached and my head banged from the noise that had filled the floor. The hospital was livelier now and the golden light streaming through the large windows told me it was morning already. 

“Oh, no, no, no," I whispered under my breath as I pulled my phone out of my purse and turned it on. My eyes widened as I stared at the floating clock on the screen. 

9:30 AM.

“Shit!" I cursed as I shoved my phone back into my purse. “I'm late for work.”

“Work?" Clara asked, a confused look on her face as she tried to calm me down. “You didn't tell me you had work today. Come on, I'll drive you there." 

I paused mid-motion, relief washing over me as I turned to her. “Really?" 

"Yeah," Clara answered with a small smile. "But aren't you going to change from…" she looked me over, her smile fading, “... that? Or you could at least freshen up a bit. You smell like molded cheese.”

"There's no time for that,” I muttered as I grabbed Clara's hand and began pulling her toward the door. "If I don't leave now, I might as well not show up.”

Clara rolled her eyes, pulling her arm free from my hold. As we both walked out the door, I glanced back down the hallway at the room at the far. Through the small window, I could see my grandmother's still frame as a nurse attended to her. 

I didn't want to leave, but I knew staying any longer would only bring me trouble. 

If only I’d known….

We arrived at the parking lot in front of my office building—a beige four-story block that looked as tired as I felt. I took in a deep breath, watching as people flocked in and out before grabbing the door handle. 

“Elena," Clara called just as I was about pushing the door open. 

I paused, turning to her. “Clara, I'm late for work," I muttered under my breath as I met my best friend's worried gaze. “I know you're worried about me, but I'm fine.”

She didn't say anything for some moments, just tapping the wheel of her Audi A4 with her manicured nails. “Okay," she said with a soft sigh. “But when will you be picking up Elijah from my place?" 

I grunted, running a hand through my hair as I tried organizing my thoughts. I had asked Clara to pick Elijah from school yesterday cause I didn't want him to see how much of a mess I had become. Crying at my grandma's bed, Clara immediately accepted my request and took Elijah home. 

“I'll come immediately after work," I replied, pulling my messy hair in a bun. “Just… get him some ice cream and maybe some Cheetos so he won't be fussy.”

"Will do,” Clara answered with a nod as she watched me come down from the car. 

I slammed the door behind me and quickly walked towards the building. Clara gave me her occasional double honk before driving off, the sound echoing faintly as I pushed through the glass doors of the building. 

As I walked in, the familiar chill from the air conditioning hit me. Telephones rang around me and keyboards clattered as I made my way to the receptionist. I flashed her my usual morning smile, grabbing the stylus and signing myself present on the digital register. 

Once done, I slipped out my badge from my purse and dropped it down my neck. Making sure the faded image of me smiling was displayed clearly on my chest, I quickly turned toward the step and began climbing. I didn't bother trying the elevator as I knew it was out… again. 

I arrived at the third floor, panting as I tried wiping the sweat dropping down my brow with the sleeve of my shirt. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I made my way down the aisle and toward my cubicle–only to find someone there. 

“John?" I called, slowing down. 

John, a thin young Asian man with oversize glasses and pants that didn't seem to fit, turned towards me, relief washing down his features. “Finally," he said with a sigh, pushing the tipping glass up the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Harris has been asking for you." 

I froze, my stomach sinking. “He… he has?” I asked and John nodded. “Did… did he say why he's calling for me.”

John shrugged. “He didn't. But I can tell you, he wasn't happy."

I sighed, rubbing my banging temples. Of course, he didn't. 

Muttering a thank you, I grabbed my notepad and pen from my desk and began my walk to my boss' office. I could already tell what he wanted to say. I was lazy and he was giving me my last chance to—

________________________________________

“You're fired!" 

I blinked, my face squeezing into a frown as I tried processing what I had just heard. Dread rose to my chest and my breathing heightened, my nails digging into my palm as I looked up at Mr. Harris. 

“S-Sir," I stuttered with a nervous chuckle. "I… I didn't get what you—" 

“You're fired, Elena," Mr. Harris repeated, sinking into his chair as he folded his arms across his chest. “This is the fifth time this month you're coming late." I made to protest  when he raised a hand, stopping me. “And if you want to use your dying grandmother as an excuse, I have to remind you that your retention rate for this month has also been low. You're coming to work late and also causing our company to lose its customers. That's not good.”

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to argue with him but deep down, everything he was saying was true. But it wasn't my fault. I had once held the title of employee of the month for twelve consecutive months. But m y inability to pay my son's school fees and my grandmother's sickness was eating away my time and strength. 

Defeated, I thanked him, picked my termination letter and walked out the door. I could feel the pity gaze of every single person on me as I stumbled out of the building, my eyes filled with unshed tears. 

Unable to move anymore, I stopped at the parking lot and let my pains flood out. I choked on sobs, clutching my chest as every pent up frustration seeped out. 

But then, my phone chimed. 

My eyes blurred with tears, I lifted my phone to my face and opened it. There was a notification in my email from the newsletter I had subscribed to:

‘Assistant position available–urgent hire.’

My heart beat fast as I quickly wiped my tears. Was this fate’s way of trying to make amends for its cruelty?

Having no other option, I clicked on the apply now icon and hit send.