Chapter 124 Years Ago
BELLA'S POV
My eyes scanned the entire floor carefully as I moved the mop back and forth, making sure I didn’t miss any dirty spots. I went over the same area twice just to be sure. No one needed to warn me about the consequences of messing up. I already knew. If I did anything wrong, Anna would not hesitate to kick me out.
And I couldn’t afford that.
Part of my attention stayed on the floor, but another part of my eyes kept drifting toward her desk every now and then. Anna sat there, calm and composed, flipping through documents as if my presence in the room meant absolutely nothing.
Just like when I was cleaning Dan’s office, she didn’t spare me a single glance.
And honestly, I was glad she didn’t.
The silence in the room was thick, awkward, and uncomfortable. It pressed down on my chest, making every movement feel louder than it actually was. If our eyes met, I was sure it would only make everything worse.
I dipped the mop back into the bucket, lifted it out, and squeezed out the water before continuing. My arms were starting to ache, but I ignored them and focused on the rhythm of my movements.
Speaking of Dan…
The way he hugged her earlier replayed in my mind without permission. It wasn’t a stiff or professional hug. It was familiar. Comfortable. Like something between two people who had known each other for a long time.
Were they in some kind of relationship?
Or were they just close friends?
Whatever it was, it was obvious they shared a history.
My grip around the mop stick tightened unconsciously. There I was again, wasting my energy thinking about people who didn’t even give a damn about me. Dan barely acknowledged my existence, and Anna… Well, Anna barely tolerated it.
I exhaled slowly.
I really needed to get my focus back before my own mind destroyed me. Overthinking had never done me any good, and right now, I couldn’t afford distractions.
“At least you can move around on your own now, better than when you first came to get the medication.”
Anna’s voice suddenly broke the silence.
I froze immediately, the mop stopping mid-motion. For a brief second, I thought she was talking to someone else. Maybe a call I hadn’t noticed.
But we were the only ones in the room.
Slowly, I straightened up and turned toward her. My heart beat a little faster as I tried to process what she had just said. Was that supposed to be an insult? Or a compliment? Her tone was flat, giving nothing away, and I didn’t know how to respond.
Then it hit me.
“Wait… how did you…?” I asked, stopping myself halfway as realization crept in.
How did she know my condition when I first came here?
Yes, this was her building, her company, but she wasn’t around that day. At least, I didn’t see her. I remembered clearly how focused I was on just surviving that moment. Anna hadn’t been part of that memory.
Could one of her staff members have told her?
No.
They didn’t know who I was. They didn’t know we were once sisters. To them, I was just another sick stranger who walked in looking for help. And I was sure they didn’t go around reporting every patient’s situation to their CEO.
So how?
“How did you know my condition when I first came here?” I finally asked, my voice quiet but firm.
“I was the one who gave you the medication for your hepatitis C,” she replied calmly.
I frowned.
Gave me?
What was she talking about?
“I don’t understand,” I said honestly, confusion written all over my face.
“The doctor that treated you that day,” she continued, finally placing the document down on her desk, “the one wearing the face mask… that was me.”
She lifted her head and looked at me fully for the first time since I began mopping the office
My breath hitched slightly.
That day flashed through my mind instantly. The doctor’s eyes — eyes I had stared at longer than necessary because they felt familiar, unsettling in a way I couldn’t explain.
So I hadn’t imagined it.
I wasn’t crazy for thinking something felt off.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, my voice coming out lower than I expected.
“Because there was nothing to say,” she replied without hesitation. “To either of you.”
Her words landed heavily.
“Mom and I were in a critical situation at that point,” I said, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “At least you should have offered a little help when you saw our condition.”
I tried to control my tone, but emotion slipped through anyway. Years of frustration bubbled just beneath the surface.
Anna let out a small laugh.
Not a warm one.
It sounded amused. Almost intrigued.
“I should have offered a little help to you people?” she repeated slowly. “Are you having a series of amnesia or something?”
I stiffened.
“In case you are,” she continued, standing up from her chair, “let me remind you. Years ago, when I came to you two for help, you people threw me out on the streets.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“Even when you knew my situation. Even when you knew I was pregnant.”
My chest tightened.
“I begged,” she went on. “I cried. I humbled myself. But you did nothing.”
She took a step forward.
“And now you expect me to help you? Because of what, exactly?”
“Well… I thought—” I started.
“You thought nothing, Bella,” Anna cut me off sharply.
The way she said my name made my stomach twist.
“You think I’ve forgiven and forgotten?” she asked.
I swallowed.
“Anna, that was years ago,” I said. “Why are you still holding on to it?”
Her expression hardened instantly.
“Because you two are equally part of the reason why I lost my child that day,” she replied coldly.
My eyes widened slightly.
She lost her child?
That day?
And we… had something to do with it?
How was that even possible?
“If you two hadn't chased me out,” she continued, her voice steady but deadly, “I wouldn’t have gone to meet the person who was responsible for the death of my child.”
The room felt smaller suddenly.
“He was the last option I had. And I took it because I had nowhere else to go.”
I shook my head slowly.
“Mom and I are not taking responsibility for your bad actions, Anna,” I said, forcing myself to stay firm. “That was on you. You made the wrong decision.”
For a moment, she just stared at me.
Then she scoffed softly.
Anna straightened fully and adjusted her posture, the professional mask sliding back into place as she looked at me.
“Ma’am to you,” she said coldly. “None of my workers call me by my name.”
She paused, her gaze sharp and commanding.
“I’m still your boss. Don’t forget that.”
I lowered my eyes slowly, my hands tightening around the mop.