CHAPTER THREE- Bad News

Amara's POV

Amara, the doctor, said, Your cancer, your mother, has got worse... much worse. She might not have even a few months without a bone marrow transplant.

"W-What?" My voice cracked. "A few months? But she was talking to me only the week before... she was all right... she--

"I'm sorry," he said gently. We have been following her for a long time. The cancer was advancing at a rate earlier than anticipated.

My eyes blurred immediately. I put my hands over my head and endeavored to restrain the tears, but they fell, hot and unmanageable.

"How do we save her?" I whispered. "Just tell me what to do. Please."

He took a slow breath. "We need a donor. We are going to begin the search at once, but Amara... it is not cheap. The procedure, the preparation, the aftermath of the transplant... it is all expensive.

Money. It always came down to money.

The very thing I no longer had.

"I'll do it," I said quickly. "Test me. I'll be the donor if I match."

He nodded. "We can do that now."

He got up, and I accompanied him to the lab down the hall. They took my blood and labelled it and said to wait. I was sitting in the hallway on a plastic chair, wringing my fingers and breathing in and out slowly.

My phone suddenly buzzed, and I was brought back. I wiped my eyes and looked at the screen.

It was an email.

I opened it, hardly anticipating anything, when my eyes opened.

"Congratulations! You have been accepted... You are successful in your interview... You will be receiving an advance salary.

I closed my mouth with a hand. A little spark had been set up in my chest--a little flame in utter darkness.

This was hope.

This was one of the things that worked out.

I made myself upright and walked directly to the office of the doctor. I entered as he was still at his desk.

I said, still breathing hard, "Can I... can I pay a little at first, Doctor? And I will pay everything, as I get the rest? Please. I am aware that is not the way the hospital operates, but all I have.

He stared at me for a moment. I could make him think.

Then he nodded slowly.

"All right," he said. I will grant a flexible plan provisionally. But you should maintain the payments. Hopefully, by that time, a donor will be found.

I had the tears come back--this time of relief.

"Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much."

I walked to my mother's ward. Now she was awake, and her eyes were open and weary. She attempted to sit up when she saw me.

"Amara," she whispered.

I rushed to her side. "Mom, what happened? How are you feeling?"

She reached for my hand. "I'm fine... or at least, I'll be fine." She paused, then looked away. "How are you?"

My eyebrows pulled together. "Me? I'm fine, Mom. You scared me--"

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. I regret that I was not there when you needed me. I am sorry I could not be strong enough to do the same to you.

I blinked, confused. Mom, what are you talking about?

She hesitated and then said in a low voice, Your father called me.

My heart stopped.

He said you were having a tantrum, she added. He told me that you caught your fiancée with your sister and that you were making a scene. He told me I ought to take you to the place.

I clenched my jaw.

"So you know," I whispered.

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, Amara. You didn't deserve that."

It's all right, I said, hastily wiping my face. "Let's not talk about them. I... I got a new job, Mom. A better one. I'm quitting the old one."

"You did? Oh, thank God... I'm so happy for you." She squeezed my hand. "You deserve something good. You really do."

Then, after a little she fell asleep again.

When I entered the hall, a nurse came up to me.

"Amara? The physician must visit you once more.

 I trailed her to his office.

"Amara... I'm sorry," he said. You are not a match with your mother.

I did not feel anything for a moment. Then I slowly got the feeling.

Not a match.

It was not me who could rescue her.

"So what do we do?" I asked quietly.

We will keep on searching, he said. Just collect money, be patient, and pray. A donor will turn up."

I nodded. "Okay."

As I exited the office, I could see the sky through the window. It was already dawn. Light pinkish was over the horizon. I had not known how many hours  I had been here.

I caught a cab, reached home, had a quick bath, and changed to my best clothes. This was my first day in my new job. I had to concentrate, at least several hours.

I directly approached the company. The front desk receptionist smiled and stood up.

You have to be Miss Amara, she said. "Please follow me. I'll take you to your boss."

I nodded and trailed her down a long hall, which was hung with pictures. I was excited, and it was not due to anxiety about the work.

I simply wanted something in my life to succeed.

She halted in front of a big glass door.

"Your boss is inside," she said. You are his new personal assistant.

I nodded and threw the door open.

And when I got in, I felt the blood run out of my face.

He was there.

The man from the club.

The stranger from last night.

The one I had a one-night stand with.

He raised his eyes, and we stared at each other.

I froze.

I was the assistant.

To the man I slept with.