Inside the doctor’s office, Matthew sat nervously, gently bouncing the twins in his arms. The doctor, a kind-faced woman, examined both babies carefully. She checked their weight, their temperature, their breathing, and their bones. Then she smiled. “They are okay,” she said gently. “Healthy, but they’re slightly malnourished.” Matthew nodded.
“I know things are hard,” the doctor added. “But try your best to feed them well. Children need the right food at this age.” Matthew looked at her grateful and replied softly. “I’ll do my best, Ma.” The doctor gave him a gentle look of pity and admiration. God will help you,” she said with a warm smile. “Amen,” Matthew replied.
He stood, strapped his baby’s back onto his chest, thanked the doctor again, and left the office. Then one evening, as October’s cold breeze began to creep into the old bus through the broken windows, the missing glasses, and the poorly covered doors, disaster struck. Paul, the quieter of the twins, had been shivering all through the afternoon.
He refused to eat. His forehead was warm. By nightfall, he was burning up with fever. Matthew had tried everything. He dipped small pieces of rag into cold water and gently wiped his son’s body, hoping to reduce the heat. He whispered lullabibies in a trembling voice, rocking the baby back and forth in the backseat of the bus. “Shh, daddy’s here.
It’s okay. You’ll be fine, my boy.” But Paul’s cry grew more urgent, more painful. His tiny chest rose and fell too fast. His breathing became shallow. Matthew’s heart pounded with fear. Without a second thought, he strapped both babies onto his chest again and rushed into the cold night, running straight to the nearest hospital’s emergency room.
He burst through the doors, breathless. “Please help my baby,” he said, gasping, cradling Paul in his arms. The woman behind the counter glanced up but barely. Her eyes scanned his tattered clothes, dirtcovered shirt, sweat- soaked face, and the baby’s clinging to his chest. Her face changed. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was flat and uninterested.
“Yes, what is the problem, my son? He’s burning with fever. He’s not responding. Please, I need help.” Matthew explained quickly. urgency written all over his face. The woman sighed, clearly unimpressed. You’ll have to make a deposit before any treatment can start. Matthew hesitated. He swallowed hard. I don’t have money right now. Please, Ma, just help me.
He’s only a baby. He’s burning up. Please. The woman’s face hardened. She looked at him like he was wasting her time. This hospital is not a charity organization, she snapped. You need to pay before you can be attended to. Please, please, mate. Look at him. He’s not even moving well. His fever is too high. Just help me.
You may have to wait till later, she said coldly. So, you can plead with the doctor. Maybe he can help you. Matthew’s hands trembled as he held Paul tighter. Please don’t let him die. If you cannot pay, the woman interrupted harshly. You can try another hospital. Stop disturbing me. Her voice had risen loud enough for others in the waiting area to hear, but nobody moved. Nobody helped.
Nobody looked. Matthew stood there crushed, helpless, desperate. With his baby’s life slipping through his arms, Matthew rushed out of the hospital, his legs barely steady beneath him. The cold night air slapped against his skin, but he didn’t care. He held the babies tighter than ever, wrapping his arms around them as if his own warmth could save Paul’s life.
His entire body was shaking, partly from the cold, but mostly from fear. He panicked. What else could he do? He had tried. He had begged. He had hoped. And now he was running out of time. Then out of desperation, he remembered something, or rather someone. With trembling fingers, he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his old cracked phone.
He unlocked it and scrolled to Emily’s number, the one he had never dared to call until now. He didn’t have the words. He didn’t even believe she’d answer, but still. He typed two words. Help us. He hit send and waited. He didn’t know if she would come. He didn’t even know why he believed she might. But 6 minutes later, just as he was pacing helplessly near the gate of the hospital, a beam of light pierced through the darkness.
A sleek black SUV roared into the compound, tires screeching to a stop at the entrance. The driver barely had time to fully park. When the door burst open, Emily jumped out. She didn’t wait. She didn’t ask questions. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on him. Matthew, standing frozen with both babies strapped tightly to his chest, tears in his eyes and panic on his face.
Without a word, she rushed forward. Matthew stood in disbelief. But Emily didn’t hesitate. She gently reached out and took Paul from his arms, holding the burning child against her. She turned and marched straight into the hospital, straight to the front desk. She didn’t care who was waiting. She didn’t care about the rules.
“I want a doctor right now,” Emily said sharply to the receptionist, her voice calm, but burning with fire. “This child has a critical fever,” she continued, her tone cutting through the room like a blade. “I will cover every single scent. Just treat him now. But if one more minute passes without action, I swear I will buy this entire hospital and fire every single one of you.
” The woman at the desk, who had earlier dismissed Matthew like trash, now stood up immediately, face pale. Within seconds, nurses rushed out and took the twins inside. Matthew stood beside Emily, weak, silent, and stunned. They both sat in the reception area afterward. Matthew’s body was soaked in sweat.
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