Layla slammed her car door shut with a heavy sigh. After that, she lost track of exactly how long she sat there, staring off as rain began pattering against her windshield. She felt as if she needed to say something, even if it was just to herself, just to break the silence. Then again, she also had no clue what to say. So much had happened within the last few hours that it almost didn't feel real- like some kind of sick nightmare that had crawled out of the darkest corners of her psyche.
It wasn't until the first clap of thunder echoed through the sky that Layla finally came back to her senses. She made her father a promise, and she was going to make sure she kept her word. To hell with his talk of regretting something out of desperation. Was she not supposed to want her dad to live whatever the cost? There was no person throughout Layla's entire life that she valued more than her father. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and the way he cared for others. He was such a unique man. How could she not want to save him at all costs?
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Layla dialed the number on her insurance card. It felt like an eternity until she was able to speak to an actual person. It took about three automated answering machines telling her to press this button for this and this button for that. It didn't help that she was left on hold for at least six minutes, close to two minutes each time, all with the same damn music playing on a loop- music that Layla felt was far too chipper for a company that held people's lives in the balance.
After what felt like an eternity, she heard the natural inflections of a real person's voice. A completely average, "Thank you for calling. How may I help you today?" from a young man that Layla never thought she'd be so happy to hear. She was almost too relieved to respond. Almost.
"Er, hi, my name is Layla Nadir," she introduced herself, silently cringing as she felt her social skills vanishing. "I'm calling about ensuring coverage for a medication my dad needs. The doctor said that they can't give it to him until it's paid for on account of how expensive it is, and it's really important that he gets it. This is kinda life or death."
The young man asked her all sorts of questions that Layla did her best to answer with as much detail as possible. Whether it was as thorough of an explanation of what happened as possible or just a simple question about when her father was born, she answered every question, gave every detail her brain retained, and at first, her only reward at the end of it all was more waiting.
Finally, the man on the other end spoke. When she heard what he had to say, though, she almost wished he didn't. "So it looks here like we can cover 15% of the costs for you."
Layla looked down at the slip of paper the doctor gave her on her way out, listing the name of the medication her father needed, along with its outlandish price. After doing some quick math in her head. She felt a wave of deep anger rising through her gut. "15%? There's no way I'll be able to afford the other 85."
"Well, after your father's surgery a few years ago, there's only so much we can pay on his behalf," the man defended himself.
Layla couldn't help but chuckle at that moment. After all, this had to be one big joke, right? Never in her life had she experienced so much misfortune in such a short amount of time. "Okay, I- I don't think you quite understand the gravity of this situation. Although, I suppose that's not really fair of me to expect. I mean, you do so much for the world in that shitty little cubicle of yours." Was it unprofessional of her to lash out like this? Absolutely. Did she care one iota? Not a chance in hell. "So, in that case, let me explain to you. My dad is literally dying- I'll reiterate that: dying. Do you know what it's like to have a loved one on their deathbed- to be maybe a few short weeks away from becoming an orphan? Well let me save you the trouble: it makes you feel like shit. In fact, I don't think that even comes close to how it makes you feel." It was only now that she realized how tightly her left hand was gripping the steering wheel of her lifeless car. "Now, keeping all of what I just told you fresh in your mind, are you actually, seriously about to tell me you can't give us the coverage we need- the coverage I need to save my dad's life- because of a surgery my dad had two years ago?"
After a long pause, the other end replied, "I'm sorry, Miss Nadir. We can't pay any more than 15%."
"So you're just gonna let this man- a man I can tell you for damn certain is more innocent than you or me- die? What exactly do you get out of this exactly? Profit? Are you really that apathetic?"
"Ma'am, if there was any more I could do, I'd do it. Trust me," he insisted.
Layla wasn't buying it for a minute. "Tell me then, in your infinite wisdom, what would you do in my position?"
An even longer pause followed. For a moment, Layla was almost convinced he had hung up on her. Then, he spoke. "In all honesty, I'd spend whatever time I could with them- savor every moment of it."
'Easy for him to say,' Layla thought. 'He doesn't have a job defending the city. He has the luxury of being able to drop by the hospital whenever he damn well pleases.' This line of thought caused her to glance over at the clock in her car. It was getting late, and it wouldn't be long before they started worrying about where she was. After a scoff that Layla made sure was audible on the other phone, she looked down and ended the conversation with an abrupt, "Whatever. Thanks for nothing, asshole," and hung up.
Suffice to say, Layla was in significantly worse spirits than when she picked up that phone. After this, what options did she have- if she even had any options at all? For a brief moment, she wondered if her father was right. She wondered if it was simply his time and there was nothing she could do about it. Layla wasn't intent on giving up just yet, though. One thing was for sure, though; she needed to take some time to clear her head. The stress from everything that had happened that day continued mounting up higher and higher, and she needed to release it all- or at least a good portion of it. And since she knew she'd still have at least a little time before everyone on the base started to worry about where she'd gone off to, she decided a drive around town to clear her mind was just the thing she needed. After all, that had been her go-to stress reliever so many times when she was younger, so it was the first thing that came to her mind as she reached for her keys and started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot and into the downtown area.
The storm clouds rolled over the city, and Layla drove on. She had no destination in mind, but the sight of buildings passing by as she drove put her at ease- at least it did until she laid eyes on the port off in the distance. Even as the rain fell and the thunder boomed, the fires from that battle were still burning as if they wanted to remind Layla of what she still felt she was responsible for despite her father's reassurances to the contrary. To make things worse, after that moment, the destruction around her was all she saw, the blaring sirens were all she heard, and the guilt for what she had done was all she felt.
Then- as if the universe hadn't mocked her enough already- when her tires screeched as they came to a stop, she looked out her window, and resting just off to the side was the city's main pharmacy. It stood there in pristine condition, as if the battle that had broken out only a few hours prior had never happened at all. In fact, the more Layla looked at it, the more she felt it looked as shiny and new as the day it first opened. She hated that damn building more than anything else in the world. Knowing that the medicine she needed to save her father's life was just sitting on a shelf doing nothing filled her with more rage than she knew what to do with. 'Surely they have more than enough?' Layla thought. 'Would one little bottle going missing truly be the worst thing to happen?' Before she could continue that train of thought, however, the light in front of her finally turned green, and she drove on, deciding finally to get back to the base before anyone got more worried than they already were.
By the time Layla slipped back into the base, the storm had finally passed, and stars blanketed the night sky. However, it didn't take very long for her to be spotted by a pacing Monk, who quickly stormed over to her. Layla prepared herself to get yelled at for being irresponsible, but she wasn't planning on having any of it. Already her mind was brewing up a dozen arguments to use against her squadron leader. As he approached, though, she realized that it wasn't anger that she was seeing on his face but concern.
"Singer! Where in the world have you been?" Monk hissed.
Layla took a deep breath. "Monk…" she tried explaining herself, but the first word was all she managed to get in before he continued.
"Do you realize that I was this close- this close- to telling Taves that you'd gone missing?" He held up his thumb and index finger, leaving only a tiny amount of space between them to emphasize his point.
"Monk…" Layla tried again, once again proving unsuccessful.
"I don't think you realize just how much Taves would freak if I told him one of our only remaining pilots disappeared. He would go absolutely ballistic and probably-"
"THOMAS!" Layla finally shouted, shutting Monk up instantly. "My dad's in the hospital, and…" She paused, taking a deep breath in and out through her lungs. "He's dying."
"Oh…" It was strange to Layla to see Monk looking devoid of something to say. "I, uh… I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"
Layla shoved her hands in her pockets as she started walking down the nearly empty hallway, knowing her squadron leader would follow. "One of the UAVs we shot down crashed at the dock he was working at. Now, he's having an allergic reaction to the medicine they gave him, and we can't goddamn afford the pills we need to help." Her head hung low, and her neck retreated into the cover of her shoulders. "I just… there's nothing I can do. Do I really have no other options but to let him die?"
"I don't know," Monk admitted. "It's an awful situation, no doubt, but I am sure of one thing, though: if an opportunity presents itself, I know you'll be able to do what it takes."
Layla scoffed as she trudged along. "That's one mighty big if."
Monk shrugged. "Probably, but it's always better to have some hope than none at all. Either way, you're lucky enough to have a way to distract yourself with this war."
"I guess," she conceded. He was right, but Layla wasn't entirely sure how effective that would be, or perhaps her foul mood was just keeping her from thinking positively. She couldn't rightly tell. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
"Well…" Monk's voice trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck. "We heard from the Kestrel II after their attack on Farbanti."
Layla looked over at his expression and frowned. "I'm guessing it didn't go well?"
"The attack got repelled, half their aircraft need repairs, and one of their planes accidentally bombed an urban area."
"Of course. I don't know why I expected anything else," Layla muttered. She wasn't entirely sure what else to say, or rather, she didn't know what else she wanted to say- lest it blows up in her face like everything else had so far. As she approached the door to her room, she sighed. "I guess it's like you said earlier."
"Huh? How do you mean?" Monk asked as the two of them stopped.
"The nature of war. The suffering that so many people are gonna deal with," Layla explained. "I just never imagined it would affect me until it actually happened."