Chapter 5
"Is this money still not enough? That's okay, I'll find a way to get more. Just go ahead with the surgery for my mom. No matter how much it takes, I'll figure something out," Samara said.
"Samara, it's too late," the doctor said.
The doctor's lips moved, but Samara couldn't hear a word he said.
She just stubbornly shoved the money from the table into the doctor's hands.
"I've got enough money now. Please, just do the surgery for my mom. Whatever's left, I'll find a way," she pleaded.
"Is it still not enough? I'll go borrow more right now. Just tell me how much you need, and I'll get it for you," she insisted.
The doctor turned his head away for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself before holding Samara's hand.
"Samara, your mom passed away last night," he said softly.
"We tried calling you, but your phone was unreachable. You should go see her. She waited for you the whole night," he added.
The world in front of her blurred into a mess, everything distorted by a veil of tears.
Each tear dripped straight onto her heart.
She felt like she was drowning in agony.
Samara gazed at her mom lying motionless on the bed. She wanted to move closer, but her legs felt like they were glued to the floor. All she could do was reach out, her hand suspended helplessly in midair, trembling.
The morgue attendant had seen scenes like this countless times. He just shook his head, let out a sigh, and said, "Take your time. Talk to her for a while," before quietly stepping out.
In the cold, sterile air of the morgue, Samara finally came to herself.
Her eyes fluttered open, and just like she did the very first time she saw her mom, she gently took her mother's hand in hers.
Samara had spent her whole childhood in the orphanage.
That was her life, until the day her mom walked in.
She hid behind the headmistress, not daring to move an inch.
Her mom just smiled, reached into her pocket, and fished out a piece of candy.
"Come here to me, I'll give you some candy," she coaxed softly.
Step by step, she walked toward her mom, not for the candy, but to hold her mother's hand, feeling its warmth for the very first time.
'So this is what having a mom is like,' she realized, her heart quietly trembling.
On that day, the light finally broke into her world.
But now, her world was plunged into darkness once again.
"Mom..." Samara choked out, her voice trembling with heartbreak.
Unable to hold back any longer, she threw herself onto her mother's lifeless body, crying her heart out.
Suddenly, it felt like she was right back in last night.
Her mom lay in the hospital bed, and Samara leaned over, close by her side.
"Mom, once you're better, let's go see the world together, okay?" Samara whispered.
There was a map at home.
It had darts stuck in it, each one marking a place her mom had been.
But after Samara came into her life, no new darts were added, and none of them ever moved again.
Her mom always said, "Samara, having you is all I need."
This time, her mom stroked her hair, agreeing to her wish for the future.
"Alright, wherever you want to go, I'll be right there with you," her mom promised softly.
But when Samara woke up, there was no more "someday" left for them.
Samara didn't hold a funeral for her mom. She just had her cremated, nothing fancy.
She walked down the street with her mom's ashes in her backpack.
She'd sold the house to pay for her mom's treatment, and now she had nowhere left to go.
She didn't know where she was headed, so she just kept walking, lost and alone.
She had barely stepped into the alley when a group of people suddenly blocked her path.
"Miss Thorne, please come with us," one of them said.
She knew right away. These had to be Evander's men.
Samara paused for a moment. She figured she might as well return what she owed him, so she got in the car without protest.
As soon as she arrived at the villa, she saw Evander sitting on the couch with one leg propped up, a cigarette in his hand.
She had no idea when Evander picked up the habit of smoking.
But none of that mattered to her anymore.
Evander casually stubbed out his cigarette.
"Hand it over," Evander said, his tone cold and commanding.
Samara didn't flinch. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the two hundred thousand, placing it in front of him.
"Go ahead and count it. Not a cent is missing," she said.
Evander didn't even glance at the money on the table. He walked straight up to Samara.
"Stop pretending. Just hand over my mom's necklace!" he snapped.
Samara froze for a second.
She knew exactly which necklace he was talking about. It was the last keepsake his mom had left behind.
Back when they were together, Evander had once taken it out and showed it to her.
"Samara, one day, this necklace will be yours," he'd said.
"It's too valuable," she'd replied.
Even back then, that necklace was priceless, worth more than gold.
When Evander's expression turned stormy, Samara quickly tried to coax him.
"Once I marry you, you can give it to me then. We'll make it our family treasure," Samara said softly.
Samara's brow furrowed for a moment. She knew exactly how important that necklace was to Evander.
"I haven't seen it," Samara said quietly.
Ever since Evander put it away that day, she hadn't laid eyes on the necklace again.
"Samara, quit pretending and hand over the necklace. Do it now, and I'll let this slide," Evander said.
"I didn't take it," Samara replied.
'I never wanted it back then, so why would I steal it now?' Samara thought.