Star rifled through her luggage with precision, her fingers brushing past jeans and jackets until she found what she needed—a full black ensemble, modest and concealing. Her disguise was intentional, meticulous. Clad head-to-toe like a Muslim woman in mourning, her only goal was to vanish in plain sight.
No one could know it was her.
The hospital loomed before her. This time, oddly enough, the pain in her chest had dulled. Not gone—but still, dulled. She moved quietly, asking a nurse about Dr. Mathews. "Not in yet," came the reply. "He works day shift. It's still early."
She waited—twenty minutes, then thirty. Her nerves frayed. Her window was closing. She hadn't come all this way in secret, wrapped in black and lies, just to go home empty-handed.
So, she wandered.
Corridor after corridor, empty office after empty office. She pushed open a plain, unmarked door, eyes hopeful. Maybe someone—anyone—could help her.
From the back room, a man appeared, cradling a steaming cup of coffee.
"Helen?" he asked, blinking in surprise.
Star froze. Her lips parted.
"I… You're… Dr. Mathews?"
The man's expression softened. "Yes! Helen, it's me… Mat. Wow, it's been forever."
Confusion crept over her face. She hadn't expected this. Apparently, her disguise was more convincing than she'd thought. Dr. Mathews clearly mistook her for someone he hadn't seen in years.
So she leaned into the role.
"Yeah," she said with a forced chuckle. "It's… it's been a while."
"Come, sit. I've got a few minutes before my shift starts," he offered, motioning to the chair opposite his desk.
She sat stiffly. "So… Doc—Mat… how have you been?"
He exhaled. "Good, mostly. A few setbacks."
"Setbacks? Is everything alright?" she asked, feigning concern.
He hesitated, then looked up at her. "Yeah. Just… life. Helen, how's your daughter?"
Star blinked. "I have a daughter?" she blurted, before catching herself.
"You do," he said slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Right! Haha… of course. I meant that as a… statement. She's… great! Really great."
Mathews studied her, clearly puzzled. But before he could press further, she reached into her bag and pulled out the small pill. She placed it on his desk with trembling hands.
"Yesterday, I found her with this. I've never seen it before… I'm scared. She's pregnant, and I don't know what this is."
Dr. Mathews picked it up and his expression darkened immediately.
"This… this pill is dangerous. It should never be taken during pregnancy."
"What is it?" she asked, heart pounding.
"It's an abortion pill."
Star recoiled, gasping. "What?!"
She stood abruptly, needing air, the room too tight, the lie too heavy.
Dr. Mathews followed, concerned. "Helen… did she take it?"
"Yes," she said, her voice breaking. "She's been in pain… and…"
"I'm so sorry," he murmured. "Kids these days… Do you know how long she's been using it?"
Star clenched her fists. "What's the point if it's already damaged the baby?"
"Maybe it hasn't. Maybe we still have time. I can help," he said urgently.
"Why?" she asked sharply, narrowing her eyes.
He hesitated. "Because I need to. I… I did something terrible once. I can't explain it all now, but this—I can fix this."
She stared at him in silence, weighing the man behind the white coat.
"Fine."
Back in the office, he began mixing a solution, pulling bottles from a locked drawer. A few minutes later, he returned with a small vial.
"This," he said, "should reinforce the placental wall. If she's only been cramping, it means the pill didn't fully take effect. She should take this immediately."
Star eyed the vial suspiciously. "What is it, really?"
"Let's call it… an antidote. It will refresh her system, stabilize things."
She took it in her hand, hesitating.
"What if it kills her?" she demanded. "Why should I trust you?"
He lowered his gaze, voice almost a whisper. "Because I'm atoning for something I'll never forgive myself for."
Without another word, Star uncapped the vial and drank it in front of him—never breaking eye contact. The silence in the room grew thick.
Then, slowly, deliberately, she pulled the scarf from her head.
Dark curls spilled over her shoulders. Her true face emerged.
Dr. Mathews paled. His coffee slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a thud.
"Star?" he whispered in disbelief.
Dr. Mathews stumbled back, the color draining from his face as the scarf slipped from Star's head.
"Star…?" he rasped. "You—"
"No. Don't speak." Her voice was razor-thin. "You don't get to say my name. Not after what you did."
He blinked, dumbfounded. "I didn't—"
"You did," she snapped, holding up the vial. "This. This was your prescription, wasn't it?"
"I thought—"
"You thought this would cure mutism?" she hissed. "Or were you just following orders, Dr. Mathews?"
He faltered. "It was just a stabilizer, it was—"
"A stabilizer that nearly killed my child."
The room fell silent. The weight of her words crushed the air between them. Dr. Mathews sat down slowly, trembling.
Star stepped forward, inch by inch, her shadow cutting through the pale morning light. "Who told you to give it to me?"
"No one," he lied, too quickly.
She tilted her head. "Don't insult me."
"I swear, Star—"
"Lie again, and I swear on every breath I've got left, I will drag your name through the Health Professions Council and revoke your license myself," she whispered. "One call. One email. Gone."
He looked at her, torn between fear and shame. "It wasn't what you think—"
"Oh, I know exactly what it was," she said, eyes blazing. "You were following someone else's plan. Someone who wants me dead, not just silent."
Mathews swallowed hard. "Even if that were true… you can't prove it."
"I don't need proof," Star said, voice low. "I've got motive. I've got your prescription pad. And soon, I'll have your confession."
His eyes dropped. "Star… you don't understand. If I tell you anything, I'm finished."
"You're already finished. You just don't know it yet."
Silence again. Dr. Mathews folded, elbows on the desk, face in his hands. "I was desperate… I owed her."
"Maria," Star said flatly.
He flinched, just slightly—but enough.
Star nodded, her breath slow. "That's all I needed."
"I didn't want to hurt you," he whispered.
"But you did." Her voice cracked now, soft, but still cutting. "And you didn't just hurt me. You tried to erase a life growing inside me. For what? A favor?"
"She threatened to expose me," he confessed. "Old records. Things I buried. She said she'd ruin me—"
"You ruined yourself the day you took the Hippocratic Oath and broke it."
Mathews looked up at her, broken and exhausted. "The antidote will help… if the damage isn't too far gone."
She took the rest of it from the desk, examining the liquid like it was poison. "And I'm supposed to trust you now?"
"I swear on my life—"
"Don't. Your life doesn't buy anything anymore."
She downed it. Eyes locked on his.
"I'll be back. If anything happens to me or the baby…" Her voice chilled to ice. "I won't come with threats next time. I'll come with proof."
And with that, Star turned and walked out, cloak sweeping behind her like a storm leaving wreckage. Dr. Mathews sat there, hands shaking, knowing the storm wasn't over.
It had only just begun.