"Hello, Mr. Micheal. There's a fire at Kent's Corporation building."
Those were the only words I heard when my phone rang.
"Call 911. Immediately," I ordered, standing so fast my chair screeched backward.
"We already did, sir. You're needed here right now," the caller said, his voice shaking.
I ended the call, grabbed my coat, and rushed to my car. The word fire kept ringing in my head like an alarm that wouldn't stop. I could barely think straight.
The moment I hit the road, my hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. My heart was pounding...not from fear of the fire, but from the chaos inside my chest.
I had to get there. My company, my people… everything I built could be burning down.
But halfway through the drive, fate had other plans.
A woman suddenly ran across the road without warning. I hit the brakes hard, but it was too late.
The loud thud echoed through my bones. My mind went blank. For a moment, I just sat there, frozen, refusing to believe what had happened.
When I finally stepped out of the car, my heart dropped at the sight of blood pooling beside her body.
"No… no, no, this can't be happening," I whispered, rushing to her side.
My first thought was that it was just a bruise, but as I saw the deep cut on her head, panic took over. People began to gather, some shouting, others filming.
I tuned them all out and lifted her carefully, with the help of a few bystanders.
"Someone call for an ambulance!" one man shouted.
"No time," I said. "Get in. I'll take her."
I carried her into the backseat and slammed the door shut.
As I drove, my mind kept screaming at me.
I should be at my company, not here. Why now?
When I reached the hospital, I saw a nurse outside and yelled for help. Within seconds, a team rushed out with a stretcher. They lifted her gently and hurried her inside.
I followed, my breath uneven, my heart beating out of rhythm.
I didn't even know who she was.
Inside the emergency room, a doctor came out almost immediately.
"Are you her relative?" he asked.
"No. I… I accidentally hit her. I brought her here," I said, my voice trembling.
The doctor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Then you need to pray. She's in critical condition. She also seems to have high blood pressure."
My world stopped. My chest tightened as his words sank in.
The doctor added quietly, "We'll do what we can, but you should contact her family. They need to be informed."
He left before I could respond.
I turned away, my legs barely holding me up. Her relatives? I didn't even know her name.
I ran back to my car, opened her small purse, and searched for anything that could identify her. All I found were a few pills, a keychain, and a phone with a cracked screen. No I". No wallet.
"Don't tell me I hit a loner," I muttered under my breath.
My phone rang, jolting me.
"Mr. Micheal, where are you? The press and the board are asking for you," my secretary said.
"What about the fire?" I asked quickly.
"It's under control. Only the laundry section was affected," she replied.
I exhaled in relief. "Good. I'm at the hospital. Tell them I'll be there soon. Make up an excuse if you have to."
Before she could respond, I ended the call.
As I slid the phone back into my pocket, a nurse ran toward me.
"Mr. Micheal, you're needed in the emergency room."
I followed her back inside, my mind spinning.
The doctor met me at the door again. "Do you have any of her medical history?"
"No. I told you…I don't even know her," I replied.
"She's been having episodes of shock, but we've stabilized her for now," he said.
"If you find any information, let us know immediately."
When he left, I took her phone and scrolled through her contacts, hoping for a clue. Most names looked ordinary… friends, coworkers, maybe family. Then one caught my eye: My Little Brat.
I hesitated, then pressed the number.
After a few rings, a young, impatient voice answered.
"Mom! I've been calling you for hours! Why aren't you picking up? Where's the key? I'm starving!"
Each word stabbed at me. She sounded so innocent. So unaware.
I swallowed hard before forcing myself to speak. "This isn't your mom. Listen to me carefully. Your mother's been in an accident. She's in the hospital right now."
Silence.
Then a sharp gasp. "What? What do you mean? What did you do to her?!"
"Please, calm down," I said softly. "She's in critical condition, but the doctors are doing everything they can. I just sent you the hospital's address. Come quickly."
Her voice broke into sobs, then turned into anger. "If anything happens to her, I swear…"
The line went dead.
I stood there, the phone heavy in my hand, knowing my problems had only just begun.
Twenty minutes later, the girl burst through the hospital doors. She looked barely in her twenties… thin, scared, and exhausted. Her eyes darted around until they landed on the ICU room.
When she saw me, her face hardened.
"Are you the one who hit her?" she asked sharply.
"Yes," I said quietly. "It was an accident. I didn't see her crossing."
She pushed past me, tears filling her eyes as she reached her mother's bedside. The woman looked fragile, her face pale under the hospital lights.
"My mom's name is Claire, and my name is Nadia," the girl said without looking at me. "Claire Adams."
"I'll stay," I said quietly. "If there's anything you need… money, support, anything… just tell me."
She turned to me, eyes full of disbelief and pain. "Money? You think money fixes everything?"
She raised her voice. "Do you know who my mom is? She works the night shift at Kent's laundry department. The same company you own. She spends her nights cleaning up after people like you."
Her words stung.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
The doctor stepped into the room, holding his clipboard tight. "There's swelling in her brain," he said carefully. "We're doing more scans. We'll know more soon."
"Will she survive?" the girl asked in a whisper.
The doctor paused. "We're trying everything we can. Right now, we need to monitor her closely."
She nodded weakly, sitting beside her mother and holding her hand. Her shoulders shook as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
Time passed slowly. Every tick of the clock reminded me of a life in critical condition.
The girl… Claire's daughter… barely moved. Every now and then, she whispered something to her unconscious mother, words I couldn't hear.
I sat quietly by the window, staring at my reflection in the glass. I'd spent my life solving problems with money, power, and control. But none of that mattered here.
Here, I was just a man who made a mistake that could cost someone their life.
Hours passed before the doctor returned. "She's stable for now," he said. "But we'll keep her under observation."
Claire's daughter exhaled shakily. "Thank you."
I stood up. "If you need anything, please call me. I'll cover every expense."
She didn't respond.
When I walked out of the hospital, I realized my workers needed salary increases.
The board had sent a dozen messages about the fire. The company was fine. The building could be repaired. But the woman inside that hospital… that wasn't something money could rebuild.
As I drove home, her daughter's voice echoed in my mind.
She spends her nights cleaning up after people like you.
The guilt pressed deeper than anything I'd ever felt.
And somehow, I would make this right.
Even if it took everything I had.