“You are my savior, Dr. Gibbs,” Mia whispered into the dim hospital room, finishing her devastating story. Her green eyes, brimming with unshed tears, fixed on the older woman’s face. “Thank you. I’m just so afraid now. Will they really send me back to that horrible old colony? What about my beautiful daughter? They promised they wouldn’t separate us. What should I do?”
“Mia, I’ll try everything I can to help you,” Barbara said, her voice trembling so violently she barely recognized it as her own. She reached out, her fingers gently brushing a damp lock of blonde hair from the girl’s pale forehead. “Poor girl, you’ve been through so much unimaginable pain. Don’t worry too much right now. Everything will improve. Just get some rest.”
Barbara stood up abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the linoleum. She had to leave the room before the dam broke and the terrified girl could see the hot tears spilling down her cheeks.
Oh, God, how Barbara desperately wanted to throw her arms around this battered girl. She wanted to hold her tight against her chest, to shield her from the brutal world that had chewed her up and spat her out. Yes, this was her daughter. There was not a single doubt left in her mind.
Now she knew it for absolutely certain. But it was far too soon to drop such an earth-shattering revelation on Mia. Her poor girl had already endured a lifetime of harrowing trials, with a mountain of terrifying legal battles still looming ahead of her. Dropping the news of a newly resurrected mother into that chaotic mix might be tragically misinterpreted. What if Mia believed Barbara had simply abandoned her all those years ago, just like her cruel father had claimed? That delicate, deeply emotional confession simply wasn’t the priority right now. The absolute, critical task at hand was finding a concrete, legal way to help Mia out of this nightmare.
Yes, she was innocent. Barbara felt it in her bones. But mere sympathetic words wouldn’t bust her daughter out of a penal colony.
Pacing the quiet hallway, Barbara suddenly remembered something. About a year ago, the elegant wife of a highly prominent capital lawyer had given birth right here in their small maternity hospital. They had been visiting elderly relatives in the countryside when his wife unexpectedly went into premature labor in her eighth month. The high-powered lawyer had been an absolute wreck, pacing the waiting room and bitterly blaming himself for dragging his pregnant wife out to such a remote, rural location.
But Barbara, steady and experienced, had managed to manually turn the breech baby herself. The infant was born perfectly healthy. While the tiny child needed to stay in the hospital’s specialized incubators with its mother for an extended period, everything ultimately turned out wonderfully well.
The lawyer had been practically in tears with profound gratitude. He had gripped Barbara’s hands, telling her he was forever in her debt, and pressed his heavy, embossed business card into her palm. He told her to call him, just in case she ever needed absolutely anything. The doctor had simply offered a tired, polite smile, but she had tucked the expensive card away.
Now, Barbara was frantically tearing through the bottom of her leather handbag, her fingers desperately searching for that tiny piece of cardstock.
Fortunately, she found it wedged between a compact and a pen. She dialed the number with shaking fingers.
“Mr. Flanagan, hello!” Barbara practically shouted into the receiver the moment he picked up, her voice tight with raw excitement.
The busy lawyer immediately recognized the familiar, steady voice of the woman who had saved his family, and his tone instantly warmed with genuine joy. After briefly exchanging pleasantries about his thriving young son and his wife’s health, Barbara swiftly pivoted to the desperate matter at hand. She laid out the grim reality of Mia’s situation, sparing absolutely no detail of the horrifying setup and the corrupt police connections.
“Yes, the case sounds incredibly difficult,” the lawyer agreed, his voice taking on a sharp, professional edge. “But I have to admit, I don’t quite understand why you care so deeply about this random girl. I know you have a heart of gold, Dr. Gibbs, but perhaps the facts of this drug bust aren’t exactly as this prisoner told you.”
“This girl, as you put it, is my daughter,” Barbara choked out, finally swallowing the massive, painful lump in her throat.
She poured out the entire, unbelievable truth—the distinct scar, her vicious ex-husband, the matching blood types, all of it.
“You’re absolutely certain about this?” Mr. Flanagan asked, all trace of skepticism vanishing from his voice.
“More than certain.”
“Then I’ll take the case,” he replied firmly, the steel of a high-priced litigator returning to his tone.
“Mr. Flanagan, I’ll pay whatever exorbitant fee you ask. I have savings—”
“Dr. Gibbs, please,” the lawyer interrupted gently. “You saved my child, and I am going to save yours. I won’t accept a single penny in payment. Here is exactly what we are going to do. Tomorrow morning, first thing, I will personally visit the investigation committee and begin tearing this bogus case apart. Stay entirely calm. Even if the guards haul Mia out of your hospital tomorrow, she will not remain locked in that colony for long. Your only task right now is to aggressively negotiate with the state guardianship office. You have to prevent that newborn baby from being tossed into the orphanage system right away.”
“By law, we can legally keep an infant in our hospital for a comprehensive medical examination for up to one full month,” Barbara supplied quickly.
“That’s absolutely wonderful. Use every second of it.”