Emily swallowed hard—not out of shame, but anger. It was the kind of anger that grows after life pushes you to the edge too many times. Eventually you stop knowing whether you’re crying from pain or exhaustion.
Another contraction doubled her over.
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she felt a firm hand resting on her shoulder.
A man stood beside her in a perfectly tailored navy suit. His silver hair was neatly combed, his watch understated but expensive. He carried the quiet authority of someone used to being obeyed without raising his voice.
But in his eyes, something was broken.
A sadness that didn’t match the shine of his cufflinks.
“You need help,” he said simply.
Emily looked at him with suspicion. Wealthy men, in her experience, rarely approached strangers without a twisted reason.
“I don’t have any money,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “They’re going to send me to the public hospital… but there aren’t any beds available.”
The man glanced around.
The receptionist remained indifferent.
The waiting room watched with quiet discomfort.
The door looked cold and distant.
“You can’t afford this hospital…” he said slowly.