The rain hit the windshield like tiny bullets as Mia clutched her father's hand from the backseat.
"Almost home," he smiled through the rearview mirror. "We'll be safe soon."
She believed him. She always did.
Until the headlights came from nowhere.
The blaring horn.
The twisting metal.
The screams.
Then… silence.
Mia jolted awake in the hospital bed, sweat soaking her skin. Her head pounded. Her heart felt like it was drowning.
A nurse was by her side. "You're lucky to be alive, sweetie."
But Mia didn't feel lucky. Not when her dad was gone. Not when her mom was lying in a separate room—half her face bandaged, both eyes blind, her ribs shattered, and her spirit almost gone.
The accident had stolen everything.
A month passed, but the pain refused to.
Absolutely! Here's the continuation of Chapter One for The Crippled Billionaire's Maid, keeping the emotional, gripping tone and building Mia's struggles:
The hospital smells still haunted her, even after she returned home. Home—a word that once meant warmth, laughter, and safety—now felt hollow. Her mother's groans of pain echoed in her ears, her blind eyes searching helplessly for the light she could no longer see.
Mia had tried to stay strong, tried to be the anchor her mother needed. But reality hit her harder than grief ever could. Her tuition fees for the final year of university remained unpaid. The scholarships she had hoped for slipped through her fingers. And her relatives? They had vanished like smoke, leaving her with nothing but empty words and cold shoulders.
The meager savings her mother had clung to were gone, used up to cover the first month of hospital bills. The small stipend from her part-time job at the café barely covered meals, let alone rent, electricity, or medication. Every day felt like a balancing act on a frayed wire, and the wire was cracking beneath her feet.
She had begged, pleaded, and worked herself to exhaustion, but it was never enough. Tuition? Out of reach. Surgery for her mother? A staggering two million naira. Feeding herself? Impossible.
The final blow came quietly, but it crushed her spirit. The owner of the café, a man she had served faithfully for months, had made a subtle, yet horrifying suggestion. One evening, he had lingered by the counter longer than usual. "Come upstairs," he whispered, his tone almost casual. "I'll make it worth your while."
Mia had recoiled, disgusted and horrified. She couldn't betray her dignity, couldn't let herself become a pawn for money. She refused.
The next day, she was fired. No warning. No pity. Just a curt shake of the head and the door slammed behind her.
With no income, no family to turn to, and a mother who depended on her entirely, Mia felt the walls of her world closing in. Dropping out of school had not been a choice—it was a necessity. She needed to be there, every second of every day, to care for her mother. To keep her alive. To survive.
Yet, even as she tried to keep her mother's spirits up, the bills mounted, the hospital calls never ceased, and the reality of a two-million-naira surgery loomed over her like a dark storm cloud. She had no plan, no money, and no allies. Only the stubborn determination in her chest, the tiny flame that refused to die.
Mia wiped her tears with the back of her hand and stared at the ceiling. Somehow… somehow, she would find a way. She had to. For her mother. For herself.
And that's when she noticed the flyer—a small piece of paper, taped haphazardly to the notice board in the local market: "Maid Needed. High Pay. Must be Reliable."
It was faint hope. A lifeline thrown to her in a world that seemed intent on drowning her.
She didn't know who she would meet, or what kind of life awaited her behind the doors it promised. But she knew one thing: she would grab it. Because she had no other choice.