Flashback To Month Ago
The hospital smells of disinfectant and loneliness. Anna Croft presses her back against the corridor wall, her eyes closed for just a moment of rest.
The sleepless nights, the endless beeping of monitors, the steady ache in her chest—they all blur together until she can't remember the last time she truly breathed without heaviness.
Inside the small hospital room, a child stirs.
Anna forces herself upright, pushing away the fog in her head. She steps inside, her heels soft against the linoleum.
"…Mama?" The voice is small, weak, and hoarse from too many fevers.
Her heart squeezes. Lila lies curled under stiff white sheets, her little hand clutching the edge of a blanket that looks too big for her tiny frame. The IV tube taped to her arm is a cruel reminder of why they're here.
Anna sits on the edge of the bed, brushing damp hair from the child's forehead. "Yes, darling. Mama's here."
Lila blinks, her lashes heavy. "Bad dream."
Anna's lips tremble, but she keeps her smile steady. "Then it's gone now. Mama chased it away."
The girl sighs, trusting. "Okay…" And just like that, she slips back into sleep.
Anna stays, clutching the small hand that believes she's its mother by blood. Guilt bites at her ribs. Lila doesn't know. She doesn't remember the accident. She only remembers Anna—the aunt who became her everything. And Anna… she lets her believe it.
Because if knowing the truth would crush that fragile little heart, then Anna would carry the lie forever.
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Morning comes with the clatter of breakfast trays and the murmur of nurses making rounds. Anna hasn't slept, but she straightens her blouse, ties her hair back, and pretends she has.
"Miss Croft?" A voice pulls her attention.
Nurse Evelyn, a woman in her forties with tired eyes but a kind smile, stands in the doorway holding a chart. She's been on this ward long enough to know every child by name.
Anna manages a greeting. "Good morning."
The nurse checks Lila's vitals, adjusts the IV, then lowers her voice. "The fever's stable for now. But…" She hesitates.
"But?" Anna asks, bracing herself.
"The doctor wants to discuss the next phase of treatment. The chemotherapy rounds are costly. Insurance won't cover all of it. I know you've been struggling."
Anna's throat dries. "I'll manage."
Evelyn studies her for a long moment. "You're doing everything alone, aren't you?"
Anna forces a smile. "I'm her mother. That's my job."
But Evelyn shakes her head. "Don't mistake breaking yourself apart for love. You can't pour from an empty cup, Anna. The child needs you whole."
The words sting because they're true. But Anna can't admit it. Not when Lila's little chest rises and falls so fragilely under the blanket.
"I'll find a way," Anna whispers, more to herself than anyone.
The nurse sighs, gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and leaves.
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The nurse leaves quietly, and a doctor steps in, clipboard in hand, his expression drawn.
"As you know, Miss Croft… Lila's been diagnosed with neuroblastoma." He pauses, then clarifies gently, "It's a tumor in her chest, pressing against her lungs and major blood vessels."
Anna's stomach twists into knots.
"Before we can even think about surgery, she needs induction chemotherapy to shrink the mass," he explains. "The longer treatment is delayed, the more risk it has of spreading to her bone marrow or lymph nodes. That would make it much harder to cure."
Anna's lips tremble. "I… I'll arrange the money. Somehow."
His gaze softens, touched with pity. "I understand. But neuroblastoma can be aggressive. We don't have the luxury of time."
Anna's fingers clench around the bed frame, the weight of the words pressing as heavily as the tumor in her niece's chest. Time isn't on her side. She's already drowning today. How can she possibly keep up with tomorrow?
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Later that afternoon, she sits in a stuffy office at the Department of Child Welfare. The walls are lined with certificates, a small plant wilts in the corner. Across the desk, a social worker named Mrs. Langley peers at her through thin-rimmed glasses.
"You've been caring for Lila since her parents' passing?" Mrs. Langley asks gently, pen poised above the file.
Anna's hands twist in her lap. "Since that day. She… she only knows me as her mother now. She's too young to understand otherwise."
Mrs. Langley sighs softly. "That complicates things."
Anna's heart thuds. "Complicates?"
"You're single, Miss Croft. You work long hours and your income is modest. Lila's medical bills are significant. Courts consider stability—financial, emotional, familial."
Anna leans forward, desperate. "No one else stepped forward for her. Not once. I've been there through every surgery, every fever. She clings to me when she cries. She—she doesn't even remember them."
Mrs. Langley's gaze softens. "I don't doubt your devotion. But devotion isn't always enough in the eyes of the law."
The words crash over Anna like cold water.
She rises suddenly, pacing the small room. "So what? Because I don't have a rich husband or a mansion, I don't deserve her? Because I'm not perfect on paper, I should hand her over to people who never even called to ask if she was alive?"
Mrs. Langley says nothing, just watches with quiet pity.
Anna slumps back into the chair, tears burning her eyes. "She thinks I'm her mother. If you take her away… you'll break her."
Silence stretches between them, heavy with truths no one wants to say.
Anna sinks into the stiff chair, fingers curling around the edge of her handbag. Her knuckles whiten.
"It's been seven months," she starts, voice trembling. "Seven months since that accident. My sister… Grace Hartman… and her husband, Daniel… they're gone. They were supposed to arrange money for Lila's treatment. And all this time…" Her voice catches. "…all this time, Lila has been with me. Every day, every night."
Her hands clench tighter. She leans forward, eyes blazing. "And still, the court refuses to give me custody? Even though I've been the one taking care of her? Feeding her, walking her to every hospital visit, staying awake while she cried from fever…"
She swallows hard. "…I've been her mother. And yet they look for Daniel's blood relatives?"
Mrs. Langley folds her hands neatly on the desk. Her expression is calm, but her eyes are kind.
"Ms. Croft, I understand how painful this is. But the law requires the court to consider the child's paternal relatives, even if they are distant. They have a legal right to be heard before custody can be granted outside the bloodline."
Anna's jaw tightens. She shakes her head, frustration spilling over.
"But Daniel was alone!" she snaps. "I already told everyone—only a few distant relatives exist. They've never shown up. Never checked if the child was alive. Why should their opinions matter more than the seven months I've been Lila's mother in every way that counts?"
Mrs. Langley tilts her head slightly, her voice gentle but firm.
"The court doesn't weigh love or effort, Anna. It weighs bloodlines first. Until those rights are considered, custody can't be fully granted."
Anna presses her palms to her eyes, the sting of tears threatening. She shakes her head, then lifts it, voice trembling.
"So because of a technicality, Lila has to stay in limbo? She's four years old. She needs stability, not lawyers debating her fate."
The social worker leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk.
"I know. And I'm not against you. But until the court resolves this, they will look at your ability to provide for her—financial stability, living conditions, medical support. All of it."
Anna leans back, closing her eyes. Her chest feels heavy. She can almost hear the tick of the wall clock echoing the relentless passage of days Lila has already endured.
She pushes herself up, knees weak. Her gaze flicks to the window. Outside, sunlight glints off the hospital roof. She wonders how many more days of waiting, of explaining herself, she can endure.
Mrs. Langley writes something on her notepad. "The court date is in two weeks. Until then, Lila remains in your care. I suggest you prepare as much evidence as you can—financial statements, character references, anything that strengthens your case."
Anna nods numbly.
Mrs. Langley's gaze softens. "No relatives have stepped forward yet. But the court still has to keep the door open for them—at least until the final hearing."
Anna's heart pounds. "So if no one claims her?"
"Then this court date becomes decisive," Mrs. Langley explains. "If no paternal relatives appear or file for custody by then, the judge may grant her fully to you. But the court will also weigh your financial stability, your living situation, and Lila's ongoing medical needs. That evidence will matter."
Anna presses her palms flat on her lap, her chest tight. Two weeks. Two weeks where anyone could suddenly step in. Two weeks until her whole world is decided.
Anna leaves the office with her chest tight, her shoes clicking down the hallway that smells faintly of paper and old coffee. She pauses by the stairwell, fumbling with her handbag.
Her wallet is thin. Too thin.
She thumbs through the bills inside—crumpled notes, a few coins at the bottom. Barely enough for bus fare and a cheap meal. Certainly not enough for chemo. Not enough for lawyers. Not enough for anything that matters.
Her throat closes. For a heartbeat, she can't breathe.
She snaps the wallet shut before the tears spill and forces her legs to move. There's no point standing here. No miracle waiting in the leather folds.
So she walks back toward the hospital—the only place she belongs, the only place Lila needs her to be.
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That night, she returns to the hospital room, her eyes swollen from crying. Lila is awake, fiddling with the stuffed rabbit Anna bought from a street vendor weeks ago.
"Mama," Lila says softly, "are you sad?"
Anna freezes, then pastes on the best smile she can manage. She sits on the bed, pulling the little girl into her arms. "No, darling. Mama's just tired."
"Then sleep here," Lila suggests, patting the pillow beside her.
Anna laughs weakly, kissing her forehead. "I will. Just for a while."
As the child drifts into slumber against her, Anna whispers into her hair, a vow as fierce as fire:
"I'll fight for you, Lila. Even if the whole world stands against me. I'll fight."
Her own tears soak into the pillow, silent, unseen.
And as Anna finally drifts into uneasy sleep, she doesn't know—tomorrow will shatter everything she thought was certain, turning her and Lila's life upside down.