The fluorescent lights of Metro General Hospital cast harsh shadows across Room 307, where medical equipment beeped in a steady rhythm around sixteen-year-old Mara's motionless form. Maya stood by the window, her ocean-blue eyes fixed on her sister's pale face, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin hospital blanket. Various tubes and wires snaked from Mara's arms to the IV drips and monitoring devices surrounding her bed, a sight Maya had grown painfully familiar with over the years.
Their mother, Sarah Miller, sat hunched in the worn vinyl chair beside Mara's bed, her graying hair pulled back in a messy bun. At forty-five, stress and worry had etched deep lines around her eyes, making her appear older than her years. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs as she clutched Mara's limp hand.
Maya blinked rapidly, fighting back her own tears. The weight of their situation pressed heavily on her shoulders – the mounting medical bills, her father's descent into alcoholism, and her sister's deteriorating condition. She glanced at her phone: 6:45 PM. Time was slipping away.
"I need to head out, Mom," Maya said softly, adjusting her gym bag on her shoulder. "My shift's starting soon."
Sarah looked up, her gray eyes red-rimmed. "Already? Can't you stay a little longer?" She reached for Maya's hand, her grip desperate and pleading.
Maya's best friend Vicky stepped forward from where she'd been leaning against the wall, her short brown hair framing concerned hazel eyes. "Please cheer up, Mrs. Miller. I'll make sure Maya gets to work safely. You've nothing to worry about."
"Thanks Vicky," Sarah said, sending her daughter's best friend an appreciative look.
Maya felt her heart plummet at the lie. There was no "shift" – only the underground boxing matches that had become her primary source of income since dropping out of college. The thought of her father's old mechanics workshop, now little more than a shelter for his drinking habits, made her chest tight. He hadn't always been this way. Before losing his job when Maya was twelve, he'd been different – present, caring, responsible. Sometimes Maya wondered if Mara's condition had broken something in him, turned him into this hollow shell of the father she once knew.
Knowing that she had no option considering the family's situation – her mother had also stopped her job temporarily because of her second daughter's sudden health collapse – Sarah sighed before pressing a kiss on Maya's cheek, her touch gentle. "Be careful, sweetheart. Text me when you get there."
"And take care of yourself too, Mama," Maya said, as she quickly hugged her mom.
Maya felt happy when she saw her mom finally smile. It's been a while she saw her do that and she was grateful that she could still make her smile. All hope is not lost. As long as Mara remains alive, there's nothing Maya wouldn't do to continue taking care of the hospital bills.
Her only wish was to see her sister smile at her and run around, full of life.
It's a pity that Mara was born this way, with a weak heart that had prevented her from living a normal life like every young teenager out there.
"I will, honey," Sarah sighed.
She gave her daughter a little pat on the cheek before letting go. Maya cast her sister one last sad look before heading towards the door with Vicky right behind her.
Outside in the hospital corridor, Vicky grabbed Maya's arm. "What did the doctor say?"
Maya wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her two-toned hair – red from halfway up and gold from the other half down – falling forward to hide her face. "They're monitoring her response to the new treatment, but..." She swallowed hard. "We need to make another payment by next week."
"I think it's time you end these fights Maya," Vicky began. "I know how everything started. You getting bullied all the time in school and wanting to get stronger and now, you're making money through fighting. Which is obviously dangerous judging from the deep bruises you sustain at the end of each fight."
"So what are you insinuating?" Maya raised her brows as she stopped walking and turned to face Vicky.
"What I mean is...." Vicky bit her lip as she stared into Maya's eyes. "You're strong now and no one can dare do any harm to you. I just hope you can stop with the fights."
"How could you ask me to do that after witnessing the situation in that room? Or should I spell it out to you? The fact that my mom had to quit her cleaning job to take care of my sister, and my Dad is going crazy from too much alcohol consumption. He is practically ruining his life!"
"And me..." Maya paused and sighed. She blinked her tears away and licked her lips before speaking, "You think I love fighting? No, I don't. I'm doing what is necessary in order to take care of my kid sister."
"Maya, these fights are getting more dangerous. There has to be another way—"
"There isn't," Maya cut her off, her voice firm. "This is what I'm good at. This is how I can help." She started walking toward the exit. "You don't have to come tonight. It's getting late."
Vicky snorted, dangling a set of car keys. "Actually, I do. Because I borrowed Mark's Nissan Sentra, and there's no way I'm letting you take the bus at this hour."
Maya's eyes widened. "You mean you stole your brother's car?"
Vicky looked around before glaring at Maya. "Must you say it so loudly for everyone to hear?" She scolded.
"Oops, my bad," Maya said, slamming her palm across her mouth. "But you really did steal it."
"Look who I'm trying to assist," Vicky rolled her eyes. "I guess I will just allow you to take the bus after all, you're used to hard life." She pocketed the car key and made to walk away but Maya held her back.
"Don't go please my queen. This servant is the softest thing you can ever imagine and she's grateful for her majesty's thoughtfulness in stealing— I mean, borrowing her brother's car," Maya pouted.
"The last person to get to the car will drive," Vicky decided not to listen to Maya's blabbing as she bolted.
"That's not fair," Maya screamed, running after Vicky.
Maya was too carried away in getting to the car first that she didn't notice when she bumped into someone. She almost crashed to the hard tiled floor but the man swiftly caught her with one hand on her back as their bodies collided. The moment his arm wrapped around her waist, she was enveloped by an intoxicating scent – a blend of expensive cologne with notes of sandalwood and something darker, more primal. But beneath that enticing fragrance was an unexpected heat radiating from his body, almost fever-hot against her cool skin.
Maya gasped as she stared into the darkest, cold and alluring green eyes she had ever seen in her life with well-sculpted face. His features seemed carved from marble – sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, and full lips set in a stern line. To say the cold-looking man was handsome was an understatement; he was mesmerizingly hot and s*xy. And the strong arms that held onto her were like steel bands, making her athletic 5'8" frame feel almost delicate against his towering height. Despite years of boxing training that had toned her body into lean muscle, she felt oddly vulnerable in that brief moment.
The man too seemed shocked judging from his expression, his eyes widening slightly as they took in her unusual features – the striking contrast of her two-toned hair falling past her shoulders, ocean-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through his cold exterior, and the subtle dusting of freckles across her nose that softened her otherwise fierce appearance. He composed himself quickly and gently pulled away from Maya, though his hands seemed to linger for a fraction longer than necessary.
"Be mindful of your surroundings next time," was all the man's deep, compelling voice said before he adjusted his perfectly tailored black suit and strode away. The lingering warmth of his touch seemed to burn through Maya's black hoodie.
"I-I'm sorry," Maya gasped, finally realizing herself. She looked at the man's well-defined back in his black suit and unconsciously licked her lips, tasting the mint of her lip balm. His aura was intimidating and yet, captivating. The scent of his cologne still clung to her skin, making her head spin slightly.
Maya couldn't help but wonder why his body was scathing hot, like touching a flame that didn't quite burn.
"Hey, we made a bet," Vicky shouted, pulling Maya out of her daze.
"On it!"
They rushed to the hospital parking lot, their footsteps echoing off the concrete as they ran, giggling like the schoolgirls they'd been when they first met fifteen years ago. The cool evening air helped clear the lingering scent of sandalwood from Maya's senses, though the phantom heat of his touch remained. The black Sentra wasn't much – a 2018 model with a few scratches on the bumper – but it was better than the hour-long bus ride to the fighting venue.
As expected, Vicky got there first and so Maya had to take the steering.
"You seemed so lost back there and your face is so d*mn red. Don't tell me that you're falling for a stranger?" Vicky teased, buckling her seatbelt with a metallic click. The overhead parking lot lights cast shadows across her amused expression.
"Not a chance." Maya cringed at the thought, absently running her fingers through her red and gold hair. Her calloused knuckles, evidence of countless hours in the ring, caught slightly on the silky strands. "I just felt some kind of serious heat from his body. It was so hot, like he was burning up with fever."
"Well, he's in the hospital for a reason right? He will get treated." Vicky chuckled, the sound bouncing off the car's interior.
"Oh, that's right," Maya agreed while laughing, though something in her gut told her this wasn't a simple case of fever. She flexed her hands on the steering wheel, feeling the familiar texture of worn leather under her fingers.
Their laughter was interrupted by Vicky's phone blaring "Sweet Home Alabama" – Mark's ringtone. Maya's heart jumped to her throat as Vicky checked the screen, the blue light illuminating her worried face.
"Relax," Vicky said, declining the call with a casual swipe. The screen's glow disappeared, leaving them in the dimness of the parking lot. "What's he gonna do? We're already out. Besides," she added, connecting her phone to the car's speakers with a series of soft beeps, "I think this calls for some driving music."
"Why the hell did you use his ringtone for your phone?" Maya glared at Vicky.
"To scare you, of course," Vicky shrugged.
Maya shook her head in disbelief. "You're crazy."
"I know."
As they pulled out of the parking lot, the opening notes of their favorite song filled the car, vibrating through the seats. The hospital's imposing structure grew smaller in the rearview mirror as Maya navigated through the evening traffic.
Maya watched her best friend – more like a sister really – bobbing her head to the beat, her short brown hair swaying with the movement, and felt a surge of gratitude. Since they were five years old, sharing crayons and secrets in kindergarten, Vicky had been her constant. Through every hospital visit, every family crisis, every triumph and failure, they'd faced it together. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of pink and gold, reminiscent of Maya's own unique hair colors, as they drove toward another night of necessary violence.
"Are you ready to kick their *ss?" Vicky suddenly screamed through her singing, her voice mixing with the music.
Maya rolled her shoulders, feeling the familiar pre-fight tension building in her muscles. Her reflection in the rearview mirror showed determination in her ocean-blue eyes, though her mind briefly flickered to those enigmatic green ones she'd encountered earlier. She pushed the thought away – she had more important things to focus on tonight. "Hundreds of them!!!"
The car disappeared into the deepening twilight, its two occupants unaware that somewhere in the city, a search for the girl with sunset-colored hair was already beginning.