The scent of antiseptic filled the air—sharp and sterile, like something that could burn the soul out of your nose. Esha blinked slowly, lashes fluttering under the harsh light that poured through half-drawn curtains.
Her head throbbed like it had been used as a drum at a rock concert. Every breath was a tug-of-war with her ribs. And her throat? It felt like she'd swallowed sandpaper dipped in lemon juice.
She tried to sit up but immediately regretted it. Her body was clearly holding a grudge.
Okay, not moving. Got it.
Then her eyes finally took in the room around her—and promptly went on strike.
The bed she lay in had more buttons than her childhood keyboard. The walls were lined with soft cream wallpaper, crowned with gold accents. Paintings hung in symmetrical harmony. And was that a real chandelier?
"This is either heaven... or a five-star hotel," she muttered.
Definitely not the rundown public hospital she'd imagined. Not even close. The only hospitals she knew had flickering tube lights and leaky ceilings—not fresh peonies in a crystal vase.
Last thing I remember...
Right. She was walking across Manar Bridge on her way to her first day of work—first real job in her entire 21 years of breathing.
And then a kid fell into the river.
And then she, like the underpaid superhero no one asked for, jumped after him.
Never mind the minor detail that she couldn't swim.
Adrenaline had done its part. She managed to strap her backpack onto the boy to keep him afloat—and then immediately started drowning. Classic.
But here she was, very much alive.
And just as she was debating whether she was blessed, cursed, or in some karmic sitcom, the door opened.
Three people entered.
An older woman, elegant and poised, walked in first. Beside her, a man with regal bearing and a face that probably hadn't cracked a smile since 1973. And trailing behind them was a younger woman, graceful, with weary eyes and immaculate posture—like someone who cried in couture.
The moment Esha shifted, the younger woman snapped into action. "Nurse!"
A nurse materialized like magic and adjusted her bed until Esha was propped up. The pain dulled, though her dignity had long since checked out.
"Thank you," she croaked. Then she turned to the newcomers with a small, sheepish smile. "And thank you... for saving me. Really."
The three of them blinked in unison, as if she'd just offered them a million dollars.
"You don't have to thank us, dear," the older woman said, stepping closer. Her voice was rich, like someone who drank tea from cups worth more than Esha's life savings. "If anything, we should be thanking you."
The man nodded gravely. "You saved our grandson."
The younger woman's lips trembled into a grateful smile. "My son. Leo. He's six. You didn't know him, but you jumped in without hesitation."
Esha blinked. "He looked like he could swim better than me," she admitted, cheeks flushing. "Honestly, I think I just caused extra panic."
There was a pause—then soft laughter from all three.
"He can swim," the younger woman said, chuckling. "But in a crisis? Even dolphins forget how to dolphin."
The older woman stepped forward again. "I'm Vivienne Salazar. This is my husband, Alistair, and our daughter-in-law, Celeste."
Esha's brain tripped.
Salazar. As in the Salazars.
Even she, an orphan who lived on discount noodles and dreams, knew the name. The Salazars were the definition of "old money" meets "modern empire." Fashion houses. Real estate. Tech ventures. You name it, they probably owned 30% of it.
And now they were standing here, smiling at her like she wasn't wearing a hospital gown and yesterday's panic.
"I—I didn't realize—" she stammered. "I mean, I didn't do it for anything. I just saw him fall and... my brain forgot to include the 'you can't swim' part."
"We know," Alistair said. "That's what makes it admirable."
"You've been in a coma for two days," Celeste added gently.
Esha gaped. "Two... days?"
Celeste nodded. "We were afraid you might not wake up. You were unconscious when the rescue team pulled you out."
"Well... that explains the sore everything."
Alistair continued, "We reached out to your employer. They assumed you disappeared without notice. You've been removed from their roster."
Esha blinked. Then blinked again.
So. She saved a kid, died almost, and got fired for ghosting her boss without dying loud enough?
She laughed.
Not politely. Not quietly. A genuine, head-thrown-back, helpless kind of laugh. Which hurt. A lot.
"Oh my god," she wheezed. "I didn't even get to use the coffee mug I bought for the office. It said, 'World's Okayest Employee.'"
The Salazars exchanged amused glances. Vivienne patted her hand.
"You may have lost that job, dear, but we assure you—your life is only beginning."
"We want to offer you a reward," Alistair added. "Whatever you need—money, accommodation, a new start. Consider it our thanks."
Esha stared.
They weren't joking.
These people were serious. Like, "let's buy you a car and throw in a penthouse" serious.
"You want to reward me... for not letting a six-year-old drown in public?" she asked. "Shouldn't that be the standard?"
Celeste smiled. "Yes. But people who live by that standard are rare. And people who act without thinking of reward? Even rarer."
Vivienne leaned in. "Besides, our grandson adores you now. Apparently, you're his 'water-fighting superhero lady.'"
"Oh dear god," Esha muttered, pressing a hand to her face. "I'm going to be famous in nursery school, aren't I?"
They laughed again.
But this time, so did she.
⸻
After the Salazars left—with promises of covering her medical bills, recovery, and anything else she might need—Esha sank back against the pillows.
Her entire life had turned inside out. She went from jobless to jobless and hero-of-the-day. Possibly about to receive a billionaire-funded life makeover.
She should've felt scared or overwhelmed.
Instead, she felt...
Amused?
The universe really was a twisted little drama queen.
What now, huh? Give me a magic cat? A space portal?
A soft chime echoed in the room.
[Cloth Fairy System Initializing...]
Esha's eyes shot open. "What."
Host Detected. Binding Commencing.
Welcome to the Cloth Fairy System v2.8.
Modules Locked: Replication. Design. Imitation. Reward Chest.
Unlock Condition: Accept your new beginning.
Esha stared at the glowing, floating text in the air above her.
"Oh great," she mumbled. "I did die. This is purgatory. A sentient sewing machine is talking to me."
Incorrect. This is not purgatory. This is destiny.
"...You know what? Sure. Why not."