The next morning.
Sunlight slipped through the cracks in the hospital room's blue curtains, spilling across the small figure slumped over by the bedside. The entire hospital was silent, the air still, with no signs of waking life yet.
Eventually, the sleeping figure stirred. Tara lifted her head groggily, faint shadows beneath her eyes from a night spent in vigil. The room was warm from the steady hum of the heating, so despite the night's chill, she hadn't caught cold. But the night on the hard chair left her limbs stiff and sore.
After standing to stretch, Tara glanced at the bed to find Selena still fast asleep. Her face was peaceful, softened by morning light, as if some of her usual tension had finally lifted. Tara stepped outside the room quietly to grab breakfast, sending a quick note to their office for both of them to take the day off.
She had just reached the door when a gentle, weak voice drifted from behind her. "Tara… where are you going?"
Tara spun around, eyes brightening instantly as she saw Selena awake. "You're finally up!"
Her gaze sparkled, warm and intense against the shadows under her eyes. That look, so full of relief, touched something deep inside Selena, warming her heart that had felt hollowed by the night's events.
Selena's thoughts drifted back to the previous night. She had been feeling surprisingly lighthearted—until a call from her mother interrupted her evening.
Her mother's voice on the other end had summoned Selena's memories of her small, rural hometown, a place where daughters were often disregarded. Growing up there, she had clawed her way out with the help of a benefactor, eventually making enough to buy a high-rise apartment in the heart of the city. By her hometown's standards, she was lucky beyond measure. She kept minimal contact with her family, sending them money regularly, trusting that her support would keep the past at bay.
But last night, her mother's voice on the phone had demanded a sum of two hundred thousand dollars, threatening to come to her office if Selena didn't comply. Her younger brother, it turned out, had taken their father's car out for a drive, crashed it in the middle of the night, and fled the scene. Now, only this vast sum would cover the family's debts and appease those affected.
Why, she had asked herself, was it her responsibility to keep cleaning up after her brother? Why, after years of working for every cent, should she give up everything to fix his mistakes? As she had argued with her mother, the sound of rushing water grew louder in her ears, and then… nothing. She had blacked out completely.
Lost in these memories, Selena's expression grew distant again. Tara, noticing her distraction, waved a hand gently in front of her face. "Selena, did you hear me? I'm heading out for breakfast. What would you like?"
Snapping out of her thoughts, Selena looked at Tara and managed a weak smile. "Some oatmeal, if you don't mind. That's all I need."
Tara shook her head with a smile. "No need for thanks, Selena."
She noted the pale cast to Selena's face, her lingering worry despite her attempt to hide it. Tara wanted to ask about what had troubled her, but held back, deciding that if Selena wanted to share, she would.
As she turned to leave, Tara hesitated, then suddenly spun back around and returned to Selena's bedside.
Selena looked up, puzzled. "Did you forget something…"
But before she could finish, she found herself enveloped in a warm embrace, Tara's comforting scent surrounding her. One gentle hand rested on her shoulder, softly patting her as if soothing a child. In that embrace, Selena felt a rare, profound peace, and closed her eyes.
A gentle voice spoke from above her. "Selena, whatever trouble you're facing, you can tell me. I'll do whatever I can to help you. But if you're not ready to talk about it, I understand."
"I already called in for both of us, so you can rest for a few days without worrying, all right?"
She felt a light, playful ruffle of her hair before Tara left, her touch soft and gentle, as if Selena were something fragile to be cared for.
The café across from the hospital also sold breakfast, and Tara spotted a few people queued up at a nearby stand selling breakfast pastries. Changing her plan, she decided to grab a couple of fresh croissants for Selena instead.
In front of her in line was an elderly woman in threadbare clothes, with worn shoes speckled with dirt. The woman ordered a small bowl of oatmeal, digging through an old purse and carefully counting the coins, but still couldn't seem to find the last fifty cents.
The vendor, growing impatient, tapped his ladle against the pot with an irritated clank. "If you can't pay, move out of the way."
The elderly woman's eyes filled with tears as she pleaded, "Please, have some pity. I took the train from out of town to find my ungrateful daughter. She hasn't answered us in months, and I haven't eaten in days. She's our only child, and now… now she acts like she doesn't know us anymore."
People in the line exchanged looks, some sympathetic to her story, murmuring complaints about the vendor's lack of compassion. Flushing, he snapped, "I'm running a business, not a charity! If everyone got a free meal for a sob story, I'd have to close up shop!"
In the commotion, he accidentally knocked the bowl of oatmeal out of her hands, spilling it across Tara's new leather boots. The shop fell silent, only the thin steam from the spilled oatmeal filling the cold air.
Annoyed by the mess, Tara bit back her irritation, but remained calm. She cleared her throat and placed her order. "Three baskets of mixed pastries and three oatmeals, please. Two to go, and one for this lady." She glanced at the vendor with a polite nod. "How much is that?"
"Forty-three and a half dollars, but let's make it forty even," he said, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry about your shoes."
Tara scanned her phone to pay. "No worries."
She was almost at the hospital when she heard footsteps behind her. Glancing back, she was surprised to see the old woman. Stepping into a nearby stairwell, Tara waited as the woman approached, watching her with curiosity.
"Ma'am, why are you following me?" she asked.
The old woman showed no sign of alarm. Shuffling closer, she pulled a faded photo from her purse and handed it to Tara with trembling fingers. "Please, miss, have you seen this girl?"
Tara studied the photo. It was an old, worn picture of a young girl, maybe six years old, holding a slightly chubby boy of about the same age. The girl had large, doe-like eyes but an oddly empty, solemn expression.
Tara examined the child's face, finding something vaguely familiar about her features, though she couldn't place it. Handing the photo back, she asked, "Do you have a more recent picture?"
The woman looked embarrassed, shaking her head. "We've been poor… Photos aren't easy to come by."
Although unsettled, Tara forced herself to remain polite. "Well, if you tell me your daughter's name, maybe I can help."
A flicker of hope lit the woman's face. "Her name's Selena Yates."
When Tara finally returned to the hospital room, Selena was texting someone on her phone but quickly hid it as soon as she heard Tara's footsteps. She glanced up with a gentle smile. "You're back."
Nodding, Tara handed her the container of oatmeal, settling beside her as she separated the pastries for her. "Yeah, and I met the strangest woman on the way back. Oh, and try the croissants—especially picked them out for you."
Selena's hand holding the spoon paused, her knuckles whitening slightly as her fingers gripped it more tightly than necessary. "Strange woman? What happened?"
With a casual smile, Tara held up one of the croissants. "Just an odd encounter at the bakery. I helped her pay, and then she followed me all the way here, asking if I'd seen her daughter. Funny enough, she had the same last name as you—Yates. I don't know, but something about the picture felt familiar, like I'd seen that girl somewhere when I was younger."
Selena's fingers trembled slightly. She forced herself to appear calm, though her voice came out in a strained whisper, "And she didn't mention her daughter's name?"
"Oh, she did, actually." Tara took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Selena Yates. Her daughter's name is Selena Yates."