The guard tugged gently, but the child only tightened her grip, her small body shaking violently. Her dress was faded and wrinkled, its hem torn slightly as though it had caught on something earlier in the day. Her hair was gathered into uneven braids that had begun to unravel.
“She is pregnant,” the girl cried suddenly, lifting her head to look at him with eyes far too old for her small face. “My mom is pregnant and bleeding. They said she will die.”
The word hung in the air like a curse. Lucas exhaled sharply and looked toward the reception desk. “Is that true,” he asked, his tone clipped.
The charge nurse, a middle aged woman with exhaustion etched deep into her features, hesitated before nodding. “The patient was brought in without insurance or payment,” she said carefully. “The doctors need to operate, but administration requires a deposit.”
Lucas felt irritation surge through him, followed by something else he did not want to name.
“How much,” he asked.
The nurse gave him a figure, one that barely registered against the vast numbers he handled daily, yet felt unbearably heavy in this context.
He looked down again at the girl. “What is your name,” he asked.
She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “My name is Lila,” she whispered. “Lila Benton.”
“And your mother.”
“Fiona,” Lila said quickly. “Fiona Benton.”
The name struck him like a sudden gust of cold air. For reasons he could not immediately explain, Lucas felt the world tilt slightly beneath his feet. He dismissed the sensation as coincidence and motioned toward the hallway.
“Take me to the doctor,” he said. “Now.”
Relief flooded the nurse’s face as she gestured hurriedly for them to follow. Lila scrambled to her feet and followed him closely, gripping the sleeve of his jacket as though afraid he might vanish.
They walked through corridors washed in fluorescent light, past curtained rooms and the constant beeping of machines that marked the thin line between life and loss. Lila spoke softly as they walked, telling him how her mother worked from home sewing clothes for neighbors, how they lived in a small apartment where the ceiling leaked when it rained, and how she had cleaned blood from the pharmacy floor with her dress when her mother collapsed.
Lucas listened in silence, each word sinking deeper than he expected. When they reached the emergency ward, a red light glowed above one of the doors.