Chapter 2

STACY

I skidded to a halt, almost tripping in my haste. The hospital floor was too squeaky clean. One had to be careful, but I didn’t care about being careful, not when the doctor had sounded serious on the phone.

My daughter’s health. The cancer. Her brain.

I stopped myself from thinking further before I would lose the reins on my sanity.

I pushed open the door to Zaya’s room in the pediatric wing of the hospital.

“What’s wrong with my daughter? Is she still alive?” I queried the nurse writing on a notepad as I rushed to my daughter’s bed.

The monitor was beeping, her heart rate was steady. I stooped to be level with her small, unconscious frame. She was pale, and thin. Too thin.

Her hair was bald, all the drugs and chemotherapy had taken away my baby’s lush honey brown curtain of hair. I tried not to think of it. Of any of it.

It would all be worth it if money was found to commence surgery and save her life.

“Baby, you’ll be fine, alright?” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “Mommy will do everything to save you.”

The nurse watched, compassion spread thinly on her pretty face as she watched me whisper and kiss my daughter’s face while I battled tears.

“Mrs. Carter?” She called softly, her tone showing empathy.

“Yes?” I straightened, shifting focus from my daughter to her.

“The doctor will like to see you. He’s in his office.” She said.

I nodded, “okay. Thank you. I’ll go see him now.”

The walk to the doctor’s office was barely five minutes, but it seemed like I’d been walking for hours. I was exhausted beyond physical measure, the edges of my vision blurred some — lack of proper nutrients for three days would do that to any human.

Still, for Zaya’s sake, I made it to his office without falling on my face. “Good day, doctor. You called.”

The young pediatrician in his thirties nodded, “yes, Mrs. Carter, please, have a seat.”

I gingerly lowered my tired body on one of the chairs, my nerves wrecking. Stomach rumbling. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. I checked the clock hanging on the wall of his office.

Ten thirty am.

“Zaya’s condition is growing worse,” The man began without preamble, sounding as professional as anyone in his line of work would, “the cells are replicating faster then normal, actively fighting whatever minor treatment we’re giving her to buy time. How far have you come to getting the money?”

I couldn’t speak. Didn’t trust myself to. Fresh tears welled to the surface, I struggled to fight them back but they stubbornly spilled down my cheeks. I drew in a shaky breath, clasping my trembling hands.

The doctor stared at me, calm and empathetic. “Why’s your husband not doing the needful?”

My thoughts went back to the receipts and condoms I’d carefully kept back where I’d found them and more tears fell, “please, doctor, can you start the surgery while I run around to get the money, please?”

The doctor looked me at in pity, but he shook his head, “my hands are tied, Mrs. Carter. Overriding the hospital’s policy is risking my job. I’m sorry. I’ve done my best to help.”

I nodded, agreeing with him, “I know. And I’m grateful.”

The last two chemotherapy sessions, I didn’t have the money to pay for. He had done it on his own account. I couldn’t be selfish to ask him to risk his job to keep helping me for free.

William was refusing to help. Maybe I could try getting to him through the family he held dear over me and my daughter.

“I’ll be right back, doctor. Please, just…” I swallowed tears so I could talk, “h-help me keep m-my baby alive till I get back, p-please.” I rose from the chair.

“I’ll do my best. But Mrs Carter?” He called as I was leaving his office.

“Yes?”

“Don’t take too long.”

I heard his words, but what really shook me was the meaning in his eyes. Zaya didn’t have any time left.

I left his office, already dialing William’s mom’s line, and praying she picked.

On the fourth ring, she picked. “What? Can’t you get the hint after calling three times that I don’t what to pick your call?” Her sharp, harsh tone never failed to make me flinch even after six years in their home.

“Please, ma’am, Zaya is dying. Please, help me…” I sniffled, blinking back tears, “please help me talk to William to make the payment for Zaya’s surgery, please. The doctor said she had no time left.”

“When I was married to William’s father, I never had to ask his own mother to talk to my late husband for me. Whatever I needed as his wife, I asked him. Ask William, don’t disturb me.”

“Please,” I hurriedly said before she would hang up on me, “I have already tried talking to him. I have begged him.”

“What was his response?” She asked, not an ounce of sympathy for me or her grandchild lying critically ill in the hospital.

Just like William, she was disappointed I had given birth to a girl.

“H-he said no.”

“He’s the head of your home, respect his decision.”

A tiny flame of anger flared, “Zaya is your granddaughter! Why are you like this?!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me, you godforsaken tramp! What was so hard in giving us a boy child? My husband wanted a male, and he got William. Why did you have to give birth to a girl and expect us to spend so much on a child that is incapable of continuing the Carter’s legacy?”

“You have a girl child, Mrs. Carter.” Tears were raining in torrents now, “You love her.”

“Yes, I am proud of my beautiful daughter. I have a boy and a girl. You have a girl and none after that. It’s been five years, enough time for you to correct your mistake and give us a make child, nothing. Do not call me or my son ever again.”

Then she hung up.

Biting back a frustrated scream, I dialed William’s younger sister’s number.

It rang twice before she picked. “What do you want, bitch?”

“Please, Eleanor, can you talk to your brother for me? Please, I’m begging you. Zaya’s health is getting worse. The doctor said if we don’t bring the money, she’ll…” I couldn’t even bring myself to complete that statement.

“No can do. Bye bitch.”

The call disconnected. I stared at my phone like I couldn’t just understand what had just happened.

Oh my goodness, Eleanor also hung up on me.

I began to pace the compound of the hospital, thinking of my next move. Of how to move from here.

Tricia. My best friend.

I know she also had her own struggles, but she was the last hope I had.

I dialed her line.

She picked on the first ring.

“Hello, Tricia.”

“Hey, girl. What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

I swiped tears, “p-please Tricia, I don’t know what to do or who to call. Zaya’s condition is worsening…” A sob broke out. “She…she doesn’t have much time left.”

“Take a cab, come meet me at the café close to my workplace.”

I swallowed, “I…I don’t have much…”

“It’s alright. I’ll pay.”

Shane washed over me, “thank you. I’m coming.”

Fifteen minutes later, Tricia was waving at me from a booth by the window side, I went up to meet her. She stood to give me a hug. “You look thin, Stacey. What’s going on?”

Tricia was a friend from high school. She couldn’t complete college because she never knew her parents. She’d been raised by her grandmother and the woman passed few weeks to our graduation.

She’d been responsible for herself ever since.

“I already ordered your favorite iced tea and a croissant.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t hungry though.

I proceeded to tell her everything.

Her expression contorted in an angry one, “those bitches and jerk.” She meant my mother-in-law, sister-in-law and husband respectively. “So what are you going to do now?”

I shook my head, “I…I don’t know, Tricia. I’m scared of losing my daughter.”

She stared at me for what seemed like a long time, then she spoke, “there’s this deal I got two days ago. It’s a one-time thing and since I need the money, I have agreed. Although, the man in charge said there’s a spot left. Would you like to take it?”

“Of course, Tricia. I’m ready to do anything to save my daughter’s life.”

Her eyes grew solemn, “are you sure you can do it?”

“What job is it?” I asked, when I saw the look in her eyes.

“It’s something they do once in awhile for the satisfaction of high profile men who like to do crazy, naught things with women. For that night, you’re the man’s property to use as he sees fit and if he likes your vibe, you get a bonus.”

“W-what?” I was shaking my head, “I’m a married woman, Tricia. I… I can’t do that. God, William will kill me if he hears I did such. Plus, you know how much they value their reputation. God, no.”

Her expression morphed sour, “the same William who doesn’t care if you daughter dies or live? The same one who treats you like rag? The same Carter family that don’t give fuck about you or your daughter? I bet my six months’ salary that motherfucker is cheating on you. You just haven’t caught him yet.”

Again, I thought of the condoms and receipts, “I have.” I revealed quietly.

“What?”

I went ahead to tell her all the evidence in his side of the closet.

“You see? He’s cheating, I knew it. Well, you chest right back. At least, your reason is valid. You’re saving your daughter’s life, unlike him who’s just doing his to disrespect you. Fuck him, Stacey. They won’t let you work, they won’t save your daughter. They just want you to keep being under their feet, eating whatever scraps they hand out. For once, do this for yourself. For Zaya.”

I leaned back into the seat, my mind battling confusion and pain and the heavyweight of what Tricia was offering me to do.

The waitress brought our food and beverages.

William wouldn’t help me. His family didn’t care. Maybe this was the only way to save my daughter’s life. It might not be moral, but the Carter family had left me no choice.

I took the cup of iced tea and drank without tasting, “I’ll do it.”