The next second, I received a notification from the hospital.
They informed me that my mother’s condition had taken a sudden turn for the worse. The doctor said she was in critical condition and urgently needed a family member’s consent for surgery.
My heart clenched. Without even thinking, I grabbed my bag and raced out the door, flagging down the first taxi I could find.
Thankfully, the surgery went well. My mother was stable. Only then did I feel a sliver of relief pierce through the fog of anxiety clouding my mind.
As I sat in a hospital chair, my phone lit up again. It was Simon calling me.
“Baby, where are you right now?” His voice was sweet as he coaxed me. “I’ve already scheduled a home visit tomorrow with the city’s top OB-GYN for you. Be good and stay home, okay? Don’t run around like that again.”
His gentle tone sounded exactly like the man I had once trusted with my heart. However, to me now, it was just a well-rehearsed performance.
I didn’t answer him with anything more than a cold, flat “Mm” before ending the call.
As soon as the call disconnected, a message notification popped up in the group chat.