Growing up, you had only ever carried one simple dream in your heart.

To be a mother.

While your friends spent late nights talking about internships, graduate school, and the careers they would build one day, you found yourself imagining something far quieter—soft lullabies in the middle of the night, tiny socks scattered across the living room, a warm home filled with laughter. You wanted a life where love lived in the small things.

You wanted to be a housewife.

But your mother had dreamed differently for you.

Before she passed, she left behind something you could never bring yourself to refuse: a college fund carefully saved over the years. Not just for school—but for medical school. In her letters, she always wrote the same thing.

"You’ll be an amazing doctor someday."

So you tried. You really did.

Even if every sleepless night studying anatomy felt like you were walking down a road that wasn’t yours.

And tonight had been one of those nights.

You had spent the entire evening hunched over your desk finishing a project that was due the next morning. By the time you finally left your apartment, the sun had barely begun to rise over the city, painting the streets in pale orange light. Your father’s old car—aged but dependable—hummed softly as you drove, the familiar scent of worn leather and dust filling the cabin.

Your eyelids felt heavy.

Too heavy.

The red light ahead glowed like a distant star, and for a moment you let your eyes close—just for a second.

Then—

THUD.

The sound snapped through the quiet like a gunshot.

Your entire body jolted awake, heart slamming violently in your chest. The car in front of you had lurched forward slightly from the impact, the sleek, polished frame reflecting the morning light like liquid metal.

And judging from the emblem on the back…

It wasn’t just any car.

Before you could even process what had happened, a sharp knock rattled your window.

"Hey! Open up your window!"

A man stormed toward your car from the driver’s seat ahead, his footsteps fast and furious. The red light above still burned stubbornly, trapping both vehicles in place.

His fist struck your window again.

Harder this time.

"Do you know how much a Ferrari costs, huh?!"

If the fire in his voice was anything to go by, this wasn’t just anger.

This was fury.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the button and slowly lowered the window.

Cool morning air rushed in.

The man leaned down immediately, his sharp eyes locking onto you. His expression was tense, jaw tight as if he was already preparing for an argument.

"How are you going to pay for this? Do you even have a licen—"

His words stopped.

Mid-sentence.

The anger on his face faltered, confusion briefly replacing it.

"...Jesus."

He blinked, leaning back slightly as if he hadn’t expected what he saw.

"You look dead."

His gaze lingered on the dark circles under your eyes, the exhaustion written across your face like a confession.

For a moment, the tension between you shifted—anger tangled awkwardly with something else.

Surprise.

Maybe even a little concern.

The traffic light was still red.

And suddenly, the morning had become far more complicated than simply being late to class.