"Bella, wake up! It is morning. Are you not going to school today? It is past eight already!" Her mother's voice rang through the house, urgent and sharp.
Bella groaned and rolled over, her face pressed against the pillow. The sunlight slipping through the curtains made her squint, a reminder that she had overslept again. She pushed herself upright, rubbing her eyes, and rushed into the bathroom. A quick shower followed, her toothbrush moving furiously as she tried to save time. She threw on clothes, brushed her hair into a simple ponytail, and ran downstairs for breakfast.
Her heart was already racing. She could not be late today, not even by a minute. The lecturer scheduled for the morning was Professor Ann, head of her department, and the strictest woman she knew. Professor Ann had little tolerance for tardiness. Bella needed her approval more than ever, because the professor's recommendation would secure her admission into Hampton International for her flight stewardship course.
Becoming a flight attendant was more than just a dream for Bella. It was her way out, her chance to see the world, to leave behind the shadows of her childhood and to finally prove that she could achieve something on her own terms. She had only a few months left before she would know if all her efforts had been worth it.
Thanks to Dylla, her beloved red Kia Picanto, Bella managed to reach the lecture hall just two minutes before nine. She called the car Dylla because she considered it more than a machine. To her, Dylla was a friend, a companion who had carried her through countless days of exhaustion and worry.
Inside the lecture room, she sank into her seat, heart pounding with relief. Today's session was the last before the final exams. Professor Ann, respected and feared by all, carried herself with the quiet authority of a woman who knew her influence stretched beyond the classroom. Bella had spent years building up her résumé, working part time as a customer care representative, and even spending an additional year abroad studying in France instead of taking the usual placement. Her time there had been unforgettable. She could still remember wandering the narrow Parisian streets, tasting new food, visiting museums, and practicing her French with strangers who quickly became friends.
Her sacrifices paid off. At the end of the lecture, Professor Ann handed Bella an envelope. Inside was the recommendation letter she had long prayed for. Bella held it close to her chest, whispering a silent thank you. This letter represented her future.
By five o'clock, Bella was at Aretha Entertainment for her shift. She slipped into her headset, answering calls, resolving complaints, and soothing irritated voices. She had been working here since freshman year, balancing school with her responsibility to her family. As the eldest child, she had always felt the weight of duty. Her father had abandoned them long ago, leaving her mother to raise Bella and her younger twin brothers alone. He had been an abusive man, the kind who broke a woman with both words and fists. When he left for another woman, there was grief, but also relief. At least the bruises ended.
Now Bella worked hard not only for her own future, but to support her mother and siblings.
Her co worker Pius took over her shift when she was done. He smiled at her the way he always did, a reminder of the crush he had carried since their first year. He had asked her out once, but Bella turned him down. She had no room in her life for romance. Her career was the only love she could afford.
Normally, Bianca, her best friend, would drive her home after work. But Bianca was recovering from an accident and could no longer manage. Bella had been driving herself, though she still wondered how she had managed to pass her test after failing it seven times. Driving was not her strength, but she had no other choice.
Music was her comfort. As she slid into Dylla, she unlocked her iPhone and asked Siri to play Blow My Mind by Davido and Chris Brown. The beat filled the car, lifting her mood. She reached to connect the phone to the stereo, distracted for only a second, but that was all it took.
The sound of metal colliding shattered the air. Bella's heart sank. She had slammed into the back of another car. Not just any car. This one gleamed with wealth, its bodywork too perfect, too expensive.
Panic set in. Of all the days, why today? Her knees went weak as she opened her door and stepped out. She could already imagine the impossible bills. Even if she sold everything she owned, even if her mother sold every piece of property, it would never be enough.
She dropped to her knees, unable to face whoever owned the vehicle. Stories about the cruelty of the rich echoed in her mind. Would they have her arrested? Would they demand millions she did not have?
A shadow fell over her.
"Are you okay?" A man's voice was calm, concerned, not angry.
Bella forced herself to look up. He was tall, well dressed, and surprisingly kind. He handed her a handkerchief, and only then did she notice the warm trickle of blood from her nose.
"I am so sorry," she whispered. "I did not mean to hit your car. I was distracted. I had a migraine and was trying to reach my medication. Please forgive me." She lied, ashamed to admit she had been fixing the stereo.
"You will have to talk to my boss," the man replied. "This is not my car. I am only the chauffeur."
Before she could respond, the world tilted. Pain burst through her head. The ground rushed up, and then there was nothing.
When Bella opened her eyes again, she was dressed in a hospital gown, her head wrapped in bandages. A dull ache pulsed through her skull. Her mother was at her bedside, her eyes red with worry.
"My God, Bella, are you alright? You scared the life out of me."
"I am fine, Mum," Bella whispered, her voice hoarse.
"The doctor said you hit your head on the steering wheel. You passed out. Thank God for the gentleman who brought you here. He even said you do not have to pay for the car."
Bella blinked in disbelief. A stranger that merciful? She owed him more than words could ever cover.
"Mum, do you know his name?"
"No darling. He did not say."
The doctor came in to check on her, his tone firm as he explained that she needed to stay under observation for twenty four hours. Exhaustion pulled at her, and she drifted back to sleep.
When she woke the next morning, her phone was ringing on the bedside table. The stranger had been thoughtful enough to retrieve it from her car. The call was from an unknown number. Bella ignored it the first time, but when it rang again, she answered.
"Hello, Miss Walter. This is a call to inform you that your car has been sold, and the money has been transferred to Mr Hampson for the repair of his Bentley Bentayga."
Bella shot upright, her head spinning. "What? My car sold? In less than twelve hours? Who even signed the documents? He said I did not have to pay anything!"
"Yes ma'am," the caller replied without emotion.
"Wait. Did you just say Hampson? As in Christian Hampson, the youngest billionaire in Europe?"
"Yes ma'am."
Bella pressed a hand to her forehead. "You have got to be kidding me. I ran into a billionaire's car. Perfect. Just perfect."
"Which billionaire's car did you run into?" came a teasing voice from the doorway.
Bella turned and her eyes lit up. "Bianca!"
Her best friend stood on crutches, grinning despite the cast on her leg.
"I understand you have been busy," Bianca said, hobbling over. "But you still owe me visits."
Bella rushed to hug her, guilt flooding her chest. "I am sorry. School and work have been overwhelming. I missed you so much."
Bianca smiled, settling herself on the bed.
"How is Austin?" Bella asked.
"He is fine." Bianca's grin widened before her tone grew serious. "Now tell me, Bell. Whose car did you hit?"
Bella sighed and finally admitted it. "Christian Hampson."