Chapter 2 A Face Too Familiar

That night after work, one of the other waitresses said to me, "The guest tonight was insanely generous. He spent ten million just to reserve the whole restaurant."

Still reeling from the day's events, I forced a brittle smile, my heart weighed down. "Oh? That's… generous," I said, but the words felt distant even to me.

The waitress leaned closer and lowered her voice. "He's been coming here for years. He brings a different woman almost every time, and each visit costs at least six figures. The guy is seriously loaded."

I paused for a moment. 'Then, it probably wasn't Nathan. He can't even scrape together a few cents right now, so how could he possibly spend millions on one dinner?'

Relief loosened the knot in my chest, just enough for me to hurry through my closing tasks and slip out as soon as my shift ended.

The moment I stepped out of the restaurant, Nathan called. "Hey, honey, are you off work yet? Do you want me to pick you up at the mart?"

My main job was working as a cashier at a mart. In the evenings and on my breaks, I also worked part-time at this restaurant.

That day happened to be my day off from the mart, so I had come straight here instead. He still thought I was at the mart.

I never told him about this part-time job. If I had, he would have only worried about me.

For some reason, I didn't tell him where I actually was.

Instead, I answered, "No, it's okay. Let's just meet at the hospital. We should check on Emma today."

There was a brief silence on the other end before he responded, "Okay. I'll wait for you there."

…

The moment I arrived at the hospital, I saw the doctor hurrying out of my daughter's room.

As soon as he saw me, his expression turned serious. "Your daughter's condition is getting worse. We can't delay the surgery any longer. You need to come up with the money as soon as possible. The longer this drags on, the greater the risk."

"Okay. Thank you." I kept my head lowered, my chest aching with helplessness.

We were still thirty thousand short. We had already sold everything we could sell. What else was left?

…

After the doctor left, I quietly stepped into the room.

A faint smile lingered on my daughter's pale face as she slept. Ever since she got sick, she had been sleeping far more than usual.

The door creaked open, and Nathan slipped inside as quietly as he could. I quickly put a finger to my lips, then took his hand and led him back outside.

"Do you have any money?" I asked.

The words came out before I could stop them. I was still thinking about what I had seen at the restaurant that afternoon. 'That man looked so much like him,' I thought. 'Maybe… Maybe he's a relative.'

Nathan went still for a moment. Then, guilt slowly spread across his face. "I-I don't."

That answer was no surprise. I didn't feel disappointment, only a profound, fatigue-filled exhaustion.

I slumped against the wall, my gaze fixed on the floor, too weary to mask the despair etched across my face.

My husband wrapped an arm around me. "This is all my fault. I'm useless. If I weren't crippled, Emma wouldn't have to go through this."

I forced a faint smile, but the usual words of comfort wouldn't come.

Still, I understood. Even with his injured leg, he always did everything he could. If our daughter hadn't gotten sick, maybe we really could have had a happy life.

"I'll find another job tomorrow," he said with a bitter smile. "I'm still young. Working a few more jobs won't kill me."

My lips parted, and I wanted to say, 'No. Your health is already poor enough. Don't strain yourself further.'

But the moment I looked up, that side profile from the restaurant flashed through my mind again.

My throat tightened so abruptly I couldn't get a single word out. I wondered, 'Can two people really look that much alike? Even from just one side?'

I didn't know.

I let my eyes fall shut, letting exhaustion roll over me like a heavy tide.

"I'll stay with her tonight," I said softly. "You should go home and get some rest."