Training at Hampson Aviation School was everything Bella had dreamed of and more.
From the very first day, she poured her heart into it. She studied hard, learning the details of aircrafts, cabin procedures, and safety drills. Every lecture, every practice, every late night review session felt like another step closer to the dream she had nurtured since childhood wearing the uniform of a flight attendant and working for Hampson Airways.
She was determined to succeed, no matter the obstacles.
But the obstacles were real. Not everyone welcomed her. Some of her fellow trainees barely looked at her. Others whispered, their eyes narrowing in disdain when she passed. It stung, but Bella lifted her chin and ignored them. She would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten under her skin.
Luckily, she was not entirely alone. She found unexpected friends in Alexia and Liam, two classmates who seemed to recognize her worth from the start. They made the long hours easier, filling the room with laughter when the tension was heavy. Liam was quick to declare, often too loudly, that Bella was the hottest girl in the room, and Alexia, amused, would usually agree. Their loyalty meant everything.
Still, sometimes Bella wondered why so many of the others seemed to hate her without reason. She tried not to dwell on it. She had no time for jealous stares. She had a dream to chase.
Her phone buzzed against the desk during a break. The number was unknown. Bella hesitated before answering, her habit always being to let strangers speak first.
"Hello. Am I speaking with Miss Walter?"
"Yes," Bella replied cautiously.
"This is the emergency room at Wilson Hospital. Your mother, Vera Walter, was rushed in after fainting. We need you here immediately. Surgery is required, and we need your signature for consent. If you want to save her life, please hurry."
Bella's heart dropped. "My mum? Surgery? What... what happened?"
The voice was calm but urgent. "Yes, ma'am. Please hurry."
The call ended.
Her hands shook as the phone slipped from her grip. Tears blurred her vision. Her mother had been coughing recently, even wincing at times, but Bella had brushed it off as dieting fatigue. She had not paid attention. She should have paid attention.
"I should have noticed. I should have taken her to the doctor. How could I be so blind?" she whispered, her chest aching with guilt.
Grabbing her bag, she bolted from the classroom. Her feet pounded the ground, carrying her faster than she thought possible. It felt like a scene from a movie, her legs flying as if she were some version of Clark Kent, but the terror in her chest was all too real.
She barely saw the car screech to a stop in front of her.
"Oh my God, I almost got hit!" she gasped, stumbling back.
The door opened. A tall figure stepped out.
Christian Hampson.
His face was thunder. "What on earth is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he shouted.
Bella's tears spilled faster. She could not even explain. She was angry at herself, angry at him for taking Dylla from her, terrified of losing her mother. She was only twenty four. Her brothers were still in school. The thought of life without her mum crushed her like a weight she could not bear.
She could not speak. She just cried.
And then, to her utter shock, Christian's expression softened. He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. His embrace was firm, his hand brushing gently through her hair, his cologne wrapping around her. The gesture was silent, but the comfort was undeniable.
It was wrong. It was confusing. Yet it calmed her enough to breathe.
"My mum," she whispered, her voice breaking.
"What?" Christian asked, his tone lower now.
"My mum is in the hospital." She pulled away just enough to look at him, her eyes red and desperate.
He did not hesitate. He guided her toward the back seat of his black 2021 Range Rover Sport. He climbed in beside her, signaling for his driver to move.
"Wilson Hospital," Bella managed to say.
"Yes, ma'am," the driver replied, pulling into the road.
The car was quiet except for the steady hum of the engine. Christian's hand closed around hers, firm and grounding, as though he refused to let her go through this alone. He pulled out his phone, cancelling his appointments for the day without a word of complaint.
By the time they reached the hospital, Bella's nerves were raw. She scrambled out of the car, breathless, and managed a shaky, "Thank you," before rushing inside.
"I got a call that my mum was admitted here. She is in the emergency room," Bella said, gasping for air at the receptionist's desk.
"Her name?"
"Vera Walter."
The receptionist checked quickly. "Room 497. But you need to fill out these forms before you go in."
Bella scribbled her name and signature across the paperwork and darted down the corridor, her heart racing faster with every step.
She burst into the room, only to freeze at the sight before her.
Her mother lay pale against the sheets, a ventilator attached, the steady beep of machines filling the silence. Bella's throat closed. Tears poured freely now.
"How did it come to this?" she whispered.
The doctor explained that Vera had suffered from appendicitis, and it had ruptured. Emergency surgery was necessary to save her life.
Bella signed the consent forms with trembling hands.
And then there was nothing she could do but wait. She sank into a chair outside the theatre, clasping her hands tightly together, whispering prayers between sobs.
"No surgery is small," she reminded herself. "Every surgery has risks. Please, God, let my mum come out alive."
Christian sat across from her, silent, watching her unravel. For once, there was no smirk, no arrogance. Just quiet presence.
And somehow, in that terrible moment, it meant everything.