Chapter 1

"It's time, Madelyn."

Lila Simpson muttered somberly as she held her unresponsive boss's hand. All the while, trying to stop the tears stinging her eyes from falling.

"I hate that I'm saying goodbye to you, while you're still in a coma. But I couldn't leave without stopping by either."

Her attempts at blinking them away were futile, as the tears began streaming down her cheeks.

For the longest time she just sat there, weeping. While she silently watched the woman that had taken her in and given her a job when she arrived in the country.

The woman who had made her feel at home when she needed it most.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow sweeping past the slightly opened hospital ward door.

But when she turned to further investigate if someone was eavesdropping or lurking around, she saw no one.

Not only did she feel lost and alone in a strange country, but now she felt paranoid too.

She placed a kiss on the older woman 's hand, stood, awaited by her bedside- as if hoping for a miracle.

Then with a heavy heart, headed for the door.

She was being deported in just forty eight hours; therefore needed to get her affairs in order, as well as pack all her belongings- in preparation for her flight back home.

"May you all please stand still and make way for the incoming gurneys, it's an emergency!"

The lady at the reception area informed at the top of her voice, trying to maintain a bit of order in the chaos that was unfolding before their eyes.

Despite the cold December conditions outside, the reception area was boiling.

Approximately thirty people were crammed together, dressed in winter coats and scarves, some damp from the drizzle outside, turning the small space into an uncomfortable sauna.

Lila pushed her mental complaints aside and stood by a far corner, trying to get away from the bloodied action that was going on with each gurney being pushed in.

She ignored the whispers about the accident, as well as the gasps about how horribly wounded some of the patients actually were.

In a room full of people, she had never felt so alone. So much that tears threatened to spill from her eyes again.

As she thought about the loss of her job, her piling student loans, as well as removal from the country.

She hurriedly wiped her tears away when she heard a baby crying near her feet. His loud sobs matching how she felt inside.

Her entire attention shifted to what she soon discovered to be more of a toddler than baby, thirteen months old, perhaps.

Who was standing, sitting, then rolling around on the floor while kicking his legs.

His less than impressed father was half kneeling, a laptop and briefcase discarded beside him, while he tried to hold his child with one hand and with the other, attempting to open a pushchair- with all the skill of someone who had never opened one in his life- and certainly not while trying to hold onto a frantic toddler.

Thankful for the distraction from her own miserable thoughts, Lila decided to rise to the occasion.

"Can I help?"

The man stiffened momentarily.

His head shaking in refusal, making her realize that he was probably a man who wasn't used to needing or even accepting help.

Then in almost the same instant, he let out a reluctant breath and conceded.

He picked up the little boy and stood to his impressive height.

"Do you think you can open this for me?" He frowned at the pushchair.

"Of course," Lila smiled.

Because working with children was her speciality. So much that she had flown right into Singapore to be a nanny. And had been for the past three years, until her work visa became recently invalid.

With two easy motions, she opened the pushchair.

"Thank you," he muttered in a dismissive tone.

When the receptionist announced that they could all proceed with their business, she could have turned and left.

But something told her that the pushchair was only half a battle.

So she stuck around for a bit and watched, while wondering with vague amusement how he'd manage to get the stiff angry child into it.

When he failed to buckle him in on the first attempt; he undid his coat and Lila was treated to a glimpse of an impressive suit, revealing a shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

As average and a commoner as she was, she could still tell that suits and coats as exquisite as that one, didn't often belong to a dad who spent a lot of time at home.

This man was probably at the office so much that his own son didn't recognize him.

There were no easy motions, no practiced ease, as he tried to get the unwilling and resisting arms of the child into the straps of the chair.

"I can manage," he growled when she started hovering, ready to help again.

Which was an obvious lie because the child continued his kicking and screaming.

Lila reached down and placed her hand on the little boy's forehead.

"He has a fever," she sternly informed. His anger or arrogance issues be damned.

The little boy relaxed when she momentarily touched him, long enough for the straps of the push chair to click into place.

"He needs-" she began to make a recommendation but got cut off mid sentence by the rude incapable man.

"I think I can take it from here," he grumbled and started pushing the child towards the entrance.

Feeling enraged, Lila stormed off before him.

But in a matter of seconds, the man's firm hand was grabbing her by the arm.

"He needs what?" He impatiently demanded.

"Could you take your hand off me?" A shoot of fear went through her body, due to being startled by what she had not seen coming.

But she reminded herself that she was just outside a busy hospital, nothing terrible could possibly happen to her.

"I'm sorry," he quickly let go of her arm. As if surprised himself that he had just grabbed her.

"It's just that I'm concerned about him and I'm not really quite sure what to do." He sighed heavily.

"Get him home," Lila's voice turned softer when she heard the genuineness of his tone.

"He needs some paracetamol to settle down."

"Paracetamol?" He repeated the word as if hearing it for the very first time.

Lila nodded.

"And he's going to need his mom too."

Now that she had made her recommendation, she turned to leave. For she had her own problems to worry about.

And wasn't willing to stick around past that point, not even if he grabbed her arm again.

Except, he didn't even need to. For his words alone were enough to stop her in place.

"His mother died just this afternoon."