Chapter 5 - AwakeningMorning sunlight broke across the Seattle skyline, filtering through the blinds of Room 304.
Clara Scott stirred slowly. Her eyelids fluttered open, heavy and dry. The room didn’t look like the airport terminal floor. It didn’t look like her cramped, drafty basement apartment where the heater rattled like a tin can.
She smelled fresh coffee. Real coffee. And roses.
She turned her head sluggishly. Sitting in a chair beside her bed was a tall man in an expensive navy suit—though the jacket was gone, his sleeves were rolled up, and he was carefully peeling an orange for a small girl curled up on a sofa across the room.
“Mom!”
Hope scrambled off the sofa, her red dress rustling, and threw her arms around Clara’s neck with explosive force.
“Careful, sweetheart, let her breathe,” Cameron said gently, stepping forward with a paper plate of orange slices.
Clara clutched her daughter fiercely, burying her face in Hope’s curls, her eyes wide and confused as she looked up at the stranger. “Who... who are you? How did we get here? I don’t have insurance for this. I can’t afford an ambulance—”
“Stop,” Cameron interrupted, holding up a hand. His voice was warm, completely devoid of corporate coldness. “Your medical bills are taken care of, Clara. Every single cent. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
Clara’s jaw tightened, pride flashing through her exhaustion. “I don’t take charity. I work for everything I have.”
“I know you do,” Cameron said quietly, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “You work three jobs. You clean offices at night and stock grocery shelves on the weekends. And yesterday, your body finally broke because you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders while raising a brilliant, brave little girl.”
May you like
Clara stared at him, tears welling in her eyes. “How do you know all that?”
“Because Hope told me while we waited for you to wake up.”
