Chapter 2 - The Two Worlds
The woman—Elena Lin—stared at Richard Harrison’s hand, then at his immaculate three-thousand-dollar suit, and finally at the small boy sitting up in the wheelchair surrounded by paramedics.
“I... I’m sorry if she got in the way, sir,” Elena said reflexively, tightening her grip on four-year-old Noah. In Elena’s world, drawing the attention of powerful men in suits usually meant bad news—eviction notices, late bills, or trouble with the hospital administration.
“In the way?” Richard’s voice cracked. “She’s a hero. I’m Richard Harrison.”
Elena blinked. Even living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment in the working-class neighborhood of East Boston, she knew that name. Harrison Dynamics was the city’s largest employer, and Richard Harrison’s face was painted on billboards across the state.
“I’m Elena,” she whispered. “This is Maya, and my son Noah.”
Colin Dray stepped up beside Richard, his phone glued to his ear. “Mr. Harrison, the private jet is prepped on the tarmac. The specialists in Baltimore are waiting for Ethan’s evaluation. We need to move now before the press arrives.”
Richard didn't look at Colin. His eyes remained fixed on Maya, who was gently adjusting the blanket over Ethan’s legs.
“Look,” Ethan rasped to Maya, pointing at his wheelchair’s side panel. “It has a turbo button.”
“It’s cool,” Maya admitted, her eyes shining. “Noah’s stroller doesn't have buttons. It just has a squeaky wheel.”
Richard pulled a sleek leather wallet from his jacket. He pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills—easily several thousand dollars—and held it out to Elena.
“Please,” Richard said. “Take this. It’s... it’s just a token of my gratitude. I will have my assistant send more.”
Elena looked at the money. Her bank account currently had eleven dollars and forty cents. Her rent was three days overdue, and Noah’s special pulmonary medication cost four hundred dollars a month.
Yet, she felt a sudden, hot sting of humiliation in her throat.
Elena stepped back, her jaw setting firm. “No, thank you, Mr. Harrison.”
Richard blinked, stunned. “I don't understand. You saved my son.”
“Maya saved your son because he couldn't breathe,” Elena said softly but firmly. “Not for money. We don't take handouts for doing what any human being should do.”
Colin Dray scoffed under his breath. “Madam, do you have any idea how much money—”
“Colin, shut your mouth,” Richard snapped, a terrifying edge returning to his voice. He looked back at Elena, seeing the fierce, unyielding pride in her tired eyes. He realized instantly that he had insulted her.
“I apologize,” Richard said quietly, putting the wallet away. “I am not used to... I am used to solving problems with checks. Forgive me.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, metallic card—not a credit card, but a solid platinum contact card with his personal, unlisted phone number engraved on it. He handed it to Maya.
“Maya,” Richard said, dropping to one knee so he was at eye level with the girl. “This is my direct line. It bypasses my secretaries, my assistants, and my security. If you or your family ever need anything—a doctor, a home, a friend—you call me. Do you understand?”
Maya took the cool metallic card and slipped it into her pocket alongside her safety pins. “Okay. Bye, Ethan.”
“Bye, Maya,” Ethan called out as his father pushed his wheelchair toward the private terminal gate. “See you at the robot park!”
May you like
Maya waved, though she had no idea what a “robot park” was. She turned back to her mother, who was looking at her with a mix of awe and anxiety.
“Come on, sweetie,” Elena said softly. “Our bus is here.”
