Love you more, darling.

Elena's POV

"But it's expensive," I finished for her, bitterness creeping in. "Yeah, I know."

Mom shot me a warning glance. "Elena..."

Carla pumped the cuff, watching the gauge. "One-oh-five over seventy. A bit low, but not critical." She jotted it down, then adjusted the IV. "Mrs. Hayes, on a scale of one to ten, how's the pain?"

"Six," Mom lied smoothly. I knew it was more like an eight—she always downplayed it for my sake.

Carla nodded, not buying it but not pushing. "I'll up the drip a smidge. And Elena, you should get some rest too. You've been here every night this week."

"I can't leave her," I protested.

She patted my shoulder. "I get it. But burnout's real. Take a walk, grab some coffee from the cafeteria. It's open late." With that, she left, the door clicking shut behind her.

Mom turned to me. "She's right, you know. Go stretch your legs. I'll be fine for a bit."

I hesitated, but the walls felt like they were closing in. "Okay. Just for a few minutes. Promise you'll call if you need anything?"

"Promise." She smiled, and for a moment, she looked like her old self—vibrant, unbreakable.

I kissed her forehead, lingering to inhale the faint scent of her lavender shampoo mixed with hospital soap. "I love you, Mom."

"Love you more, darling."

Stepping into the hallway was like emerging from a pressure cooker. The air was cooler, less suffocating. I wandered toward the elevator, my mind a whirlwind. How had we gotten here? Mom had been healthy just a year ago—jogging in the mornings, volunteering at the community center. Then the fatigue set in, the weight loss, the diagnosis. It was like a thief in the night, stealing her piece by piece.

I pressed the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall as the doors closed. My reflection in the metal stared back—disheveled hair in a messy ponytail, dark circles under my eyes, clothes rumpled from too many hours in that chair. Twenty-two years old, and I felt ancient. Friends from college were out partying, traveling, starting real careers. Me? I was juggling an internship, part-time gigs, and this endless vigil.

The cafeteria was dimly lit, a few weary souls scattered at tables—doctors on break, families like mine clinging to hope. I grabbed a Styrofoam cup of coffee, black and bitter, and sank into a booth by the window. Rain pattered against the glass, blurring the parking lot lights into halos. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, half-dreading another bill notification.

It was from Ms. Ramirez: *Elena, the Voss files need finalizing ASAP. Mr. Voss is reviewing them first thing tomorrow. Can you swing by the office after hours tonight? Overtime pay, of course.*

My stomach twisted. Overtime sounded like a lifeline—extra cash could buy us a little more time. But Voss Enterprises at night? The building was a monolith, all sleek lines and intimidating security. And Alexander Voss... Mom had mentioned him, but I'd seen his photos in company memos. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features that screamed power. Rumors swirled about him—ruthless in boardrooms, a playboy in private. Not that it mattered to me. I was just an intern, invisible in the grand scheme.

I texted back: *Yes, I'll be there in an hour.*

Pocketing the phone, I sipped the coffee, scalding my tongue but not caring. For Mom, I'd walk through fire. Even if it meant facing the unknown in that glass tower.

Back in the room, Mom was dozing again, her breathing steadier thanks to the adjusted drip. I sat quietly, watching her, my mind drifting to what-ifs. What if the treatment worked? What if we could go home, bake cookies like old times, laugh about this nightmare? But the darker thoughts crept in too—what if it didn't? What if I was left alone, drowning in debt and grief?

An hour passed too quickly. I gently shook her shoulder. "Mom? I have to go to the office for a bit. Work stuff."

Her eyes opened, foggy at first. "At this hour? Be careful, Elena. The city's not safe late."

"I'll take a cab. Promise." I hugged her, careful not to jostle the tubes. "Get some rest. I'll be back before you know it."

She nodded, her hand lingering on my cheek. "You're my brave girl. Always have been."

Tears threatened again as I left, the door closing with a soft thud. In the elevator, I steeled myself. This was for her. Whatever it took—late nights, exhausting tasks, even dealing with intimidating CEOs—I'd do it.

Little did I know, that night would change everything. The path to Voss Enterprises wasn't just a commute; it was a descent into a world of shadows, desires, and a man who would test every limit I had. But in that moment, all I felt was determination, laced with the raw ache of love and fear.

As I stepped into the rainy night, hailing a cab, my heart pounded with a mix of resolve and dread. Hold on, Mom. Just hold on.