The screen glowed with call logs—one number, over and over. All night, she'd dialed it, clinging to a shred of hope. Each time, the same cold wall: "The number you've reached is unavailable…"
From hope to despair in a single night.
"Grandma…" she whimpered, sobs shaking her small frame. Crying was all she had left.
The hospital had issued the critical notice: today was the last chance for surgery. But surgery meant one hundred ten thousand six hundred eighty-seven dollars—an amount of money Riley had never even seen in her life.
And the one person who might help—her "Sir"—was nowhere to be found.
"Wah—it's all my fault," she sobbed. "If I hadn't run away that next day, if I'd gone to work like normal, he wouldn't be mad. He'd answer my calls."
Staring at the endless list of unanswered calls, guilt swallowed her whole.
After that night in the private room, Riley convinced herself she'd lost her innocence to Alex while drunk.
