C11 I Was Attacked

Hilda smiled quietly, accepting the health supplements from the nurse and setting them aside without a word. She then inquired about her mother's condition, to which the nurse responded with meticulous detail.

Gwynne slowly came to, her ears picking up the familiar voice. "Hilda, is that you?" she called out.

"Yes, Mom, I'm here," Hilda replied.

Not wanting to intrude on their intimate exchange, the nurse discreetly exited the room.

"You seem to have lost weight; these days must have been tough," Gwynne said softly.

Hilda dragged a stool over to sit by her mother, feigning ease. "Not at all tough. Feel my cheek; it's still plump. It's just this black dress I'm wearing today—it's slimming, that's all." She guided Gwynne's right hand to her face.

As Hilda held her mother's hand, now frail from atrophy, she fought back tears, maintaining a cheerful facade. "Mom, is there anywhere else you'd like to visit? I could feature it in my next column, what do you say?"

As a columnist for the popular magazine Riddle, Hilda had made it a point to visit the places Gwynne longed to see, capturing the essence of each location and translating it into her work. Her distinctive photographic style and heartfelt prose had earned her column a dedicated following.

"Hmm, let me think. What about Sky Mountain on the western outskirts of Criarbridge? It's firefly season there," Gwynne suggested, her smile hinting at the serene image in her mind, softening her entire demeanor.

"Absolutely. I'll take plenty of pictures to show you," Hilda promised.

"Okay."

Hilda stayed a while longer, chatting with Gwynne, who, in these moments, seemed untouched by illness or worry, her laughter free of burdens.

Yet, Hilda's heart clenched recalling the nurse's earlier words: "The doctor says that as the motor neuron disease progresses, breathing will become difficult. Make the most of the time while your mother can still speak." She kept her composure, her anguish invisible.

It wasn't until the doctor arrived for rounds, stressing the need for the patient to rest, that Hilda finally bid Gwynne farewell and stepped out of the hospital room.

The parking lot was sparsely filled with cars. She clicked her remote control and, upon hearing the beep, quickly located her vehicle.

As Hilda bent to open her car door, a sudden black shadow reflected in the window charged toward her. She instinctively dodged, only to be yanked by a powerful force. With a shriek, she tumbled to the ground. Almost immediately, two figures emerged, one on each side, seizing her hands and feet with a vice-like grip.

Flashes of memory surged through her mind, evoking haunting scenes from her past. Fear spread through her, choking her like an invisible hand intent on snuffing out her life.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Past and present collided as Hilda fought back in a frenzy, writhing and ignoring the creaking of her limbs, still held fast, as if they might snap at any second.

The two assailants hadn't anticipated such a fierce reaction. Taken aback, they were momentarily stunned, allowing Hilda to break free.

"Help! Help! Somebody, help me!" She flung off the men clutching at her and bolted toward the parking lot exit in sheer panic.

In the distance, she faintly heard voices.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the two men exchanged a glance and quickly gave chase after Hilda.