Chapter 8
Finally, she had a baby. The blonde nurse cradled the newborn into Sherilyn's arms, and she wept with joy amidst her overwhelming tears. It was her child., her family. From then on, she wouldn't be alone anymore!
Closing her eyes, she passed out from exhaustion.
...
When she came out of the coma, Sherilyn held her baby close, silent and downcast.
The blonde nurse looked at her helplessly. She was there to remind Sherilyn about the hospital bill. Sherilyn had paid some, but it was far from enough.
Sherilyn kept her head low, lost for words. She knew it was shameful, but she was out of money.
"Phew." Though stern, the nurse had a soft heart. Seeing how young Sherilyn was, she guessed the girl had been abandoned. "Don’t you have family or friends? Contact them. Maybe they can help."
After saying that, she left, not pressing too hard.
Sherilyn lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears. She had no family, no friends; she was completely alone. But she was a mother. She couldn't just dodge the hospital bills like a deadbeat!
Digging through her bag, Sherilyn found her phone. After eight long months, she dialed Gilbert's number.
Ring. Ring. Ring. After an agonizingly long wait, the call connected.
"Gi..." Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
"Hello?"
Before she could finish, a familiar female voice answered. It was Caroline.
"Is this Sherilyn?" Caroline's voice was light and breezy, "Are you looking for Gilbert? He’s a bit tied up now, but you can tell me. It’s all the same."
Sherilyn wondered, ‘Could she be so kind? Doesn't she despise me?’
But Sherilyn was desperate. "I was wondering... if he could lend me some money?"
She couldn’t bring herself to ask outright for money anymore. She could only hope to borrow it.
"I'll pay it back. As soon as I have the money, I’ll return it!"
"Is that so." Caroline's voice was amiable, "Alright, I’ll let him know. Bye then."
"Thank you..." Before Sherilyn could finish, the line went dead.
She clutched her phone, her heart sinking. Gilbert would help, right? It may be for the sake of old times or because they weren't officially divorced yet.
But days passed, and Sherilyn received nothing.
Two days later, she stood at the hospital's main entrance, her baby in her arms. Unable to pay the bill, she got kicked out.
While looking up at the winter sun, its warmth bittersweet, tears welled up in Sherilyn's eyes.
"Don't cry." She bit her lip, warning herself. "What right do you have to cry? You're a mother. You have a child to take care of! No crying!"
But she was penniless. Her apartment had burned down, and she had nowhere to go.
...
Two weeks later, Sherilyn, holding her baby, ran heedlessly forward.
"Thief! She stole something!"
"Catch her!"
The urgent footsteps behind her got closer and closer.
Realizing she couldn't escape, Sherilyn stumbled and fell forward. In a swift move, she turned, shielding her baby from the impact.
"Gotcha!"
Before she could get up, the store clerk pinned her down.
"Where do you think you're running? What did you steal? Show it!"
The clerk snatched Sherilyn's bag, unzipped it, and dumped the stuff inside on the ground. "Baby formula? Diapers? Why steal these?"
"Look! She's got a baby!"
Sherilyn shut her eyes in shame. At that moment, she wished she could disappear. She had lost all her dignity, yet she clung to her child, for she couldn't even afford the luxury of despair.