Trapped by the Cold Doctor

I stepped out of the cab, tossed a few crumpled bills at the driver, and slammed the door behind me. The gate creaked as I pushed it open, and I dragged my feet toward my apartment, every step heavier than the last.

"Hey, sis!" Amaya called from the doorway, her usual too-cheerful tone scraping my nerves. She leaned in to kiss my cheek.

I jerked back. "Back off," I muttered without looking at her.

Her smile faltered, but she didn't say anything. She never did anymore. She was used to this version of me.

I walked past her and headed straight to the kitchen. My throat was dry, raw from holding back too many words I never got to scream. I opened the fridge and grabbed the coldest bottle I could find. The chill bit into my palm, grounding me for a second.

Amaya hovered nearby, silent.

I poured the water into a glass and drank like I hadn't had a drop in days. The coolness slid down my throat, but it did nothing to quench the fire that burned beneath my skin.

I could feel her watching me. I always could. She looked at me like I was some kind of tragic warrior, bruised and worn from battle. But she didn't understand. She couldn't. No one could.

Still, her eyes told the whole story. Guilt, and pain.

She knew what I did to keep this roof over our heads. She knew the nights I came home broken weren't just bad dreams, they were the price of survival. She knew. And that made it worse.

Because I didn't want her pity.

If it were up to me to decide, Kayla would never have to take that kind of job.

She wouldn't have to come home with tired eyes and broken silences. She wouldn't have to smile through pain or pretend like everything was okay when it clearly wasn't.

Kayla's always insisted on being the provider, no matter how hard it was.

But I know it's not easy for her.

I hear her cries through the thin walls. I see how she stares into space some nights, eyes wide open like sleep has forgotten her.

If only Dad weren't dead...

If only Mom weren't fighting for her life, each heartbeat would be a gamble.

Then maybe Kayla wouldn't have to shoulder so much alone. Maybe we'd be normal. Maybe she'd be free.

"Hey, Amaya," her voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blinked, startled. "I thought you were ignoring me."

"I wasn't. Not until I saw you completely lost in thought."

"Oh." I scratched the side of my head, awkwardly.

"You were probably thinking about your upcoming exams?" she asked gently.

"Yeah... I guess," I mumbled.

The truth was, I was thinking about her.

"Try your best to pass, okay?" she said, her voice soft and warm.

"I will. Even if it's just for your sake, for how hard you try every day." I gave her a small smile, and to my surprise, she smiled back.

That made something tight in my chest ease, just a little.

She always looked at me like I was her entire world. And sometimes, it felt like I was.

KAYLA

Amaya was strikingly beautiful. She had a narrow, straight nose, bold eyes that carried an unspoken fire, and long, dark hair that cascaded past her shoulders like a silken waterfall. At just eighteen, she was a high school senior who always stood out, brilliant, and determined. She consistently earned gold medals at the end of every term, making the whole school know her name.

I had made a silent promise to myself, Amaya would never drop out of school, not like I did. She would finish her education, get a degree, and live a life better than the one I was barely surviving.

I loved my little sister more than words could ever express.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

"She's taking a nap," Amaya replied. I set my glass down with a light clink. And picked up my bag from the kitchen island, along with the half-empty bottle of water.

"I'll be in my room," I added, disappearing down the hallway.

I walked into my room, dropped my bag on the bed, and headed straight for my drawer without even taking off my shoes. My fingers went straight to the packet of contraceptive pills tucked beneath some random receipts and an old phone charger. I didn't think twice. I popped two into my mouth and swallowed them down with a gulp of water.

I hadn't had sex with him, not last night.

But I am used to this routine now. After every shift at the bar, I took them. It was my way of reclaiming some control. A habit I no longer questioned. Just another part of surviving.

The door creaked open behind me.

"So, what did you get for me?" Amaya's voice chimed in as she walked in without knocking, already digging into my bag like it belonged to her.

I sighed, not bothering to turn around. "I wasn't really in the right frame of mind coming back home. I didn't get you anything."

Amaya pouted behind me. I could hear it in her voice. "Why do you look so off?"

I didn't answer.

She kept rummaging for a second, then froze. "And what's this? Whose is it?"

I turned around. "What is what?"

She held up a card between two fingers like it was a dirty tissue. "It's a card. I found it in your bag."

"A card?" My stomach dropped as I snatched it from her hand. I didn't even look at it before I snapped, "What?! That creepy ass man dared to slip this into my bag?"

My hands tightened around the edges of the card as I flipped it over. Just a name, phone number, and an email address.

"What the fuck," I muttered, jaw clenching. "Now he seems even more creepy and annoying."

"What's wrong?" Amaya's voice shifted, more serious now.

"There's this man that came into the bar yesterday," I said, still staring at the card. "He asked me to spend the night with him. Then out of nowhere, he said he wanted me to pretend to be a mom to his daughter. Just for a day. Said there's some school event coming up, and he needs someone to be her mom."

Amaya blinked. "A mom? To his daughter? Who even is this guy? I don't get it."

I tossed the card onto the bed like it burned my fingers. "I don't know who the hell he thinks he is, but he was too calm about the whole thing. Like it wasn't even weird."

"You didn't accept the job?"

I shook my head.

Amaya sat down on the edge of the bed and tilted her head. "But just think about it... Being a mom for a day or two? That actually sounds way more decent than your work. At least you'd get a break from the bar."

She had a point. I hated that she had a point.

"And why didn't you go for it?" she continued. "Was the pay too small?"

"No, that's not it." I looked down at the floor, swallowing the bitter lump in my throat. "But who would want a..."

"A what?" Amaya pressed. "Ohhh... Is that why you think he's creepy?"

I didn't answer. Not because I didn't have a response, but because I didn't want to say it out loud. I didn't want to admit that deep down, I didn't think I was good enough for a pretend role like that.