Save Me - Chapter 3: Chapter 4

Dahlia
I stared at the photo for what felt like an eternity, possibly two minutes. I was so engrossed in it that I couldn't even blink.
It was a photo of Gilbert Hall standing next to a young woman and the caption below read 'Oil billionaire Gilbert Hall with daughter Juliette'. She looked to be in her early twenties, her hair pin straight and short as she solemnly stood next to her father, but even without the carefree smile on her lips, there was no doubt in my mind that Juliette Hall was my mother.
A million questions rushed through my head at once as I enlarged the picture. Why had my mother changed her name? Why did she leave her family? Why did she lie to me about her real name? Did I really know her at all?
'All we need in this world is each other, my little firefly, nothing else matters.' My mother's voice rang so clear in my head that it silenced the brewing storm.
I may not have known my mother's history or apparently her actual name, but I knew her. I knew that her heart was incapable of bearing any ill intent. The name I had known her by may not have been real, but her love for me certainly was. I trusted her enough to give her the benefit of a doubt. She must have had a good reason for leaving her family and her identity behind.
My eyes shifted to Gilbert Hall and his dark emotionless eyes. My grandfather.
Surely if he knew that his daughter was dying, no matter how estranged they were, he would still help her, right?
I scribbled down the address of his company's head office located in the big city, just an hour train ride away.
As I stepped out of the library, a renewed determination swirled in my mind. I had no clear plan as to how I was going to approach reaching out to my estranged family to ask them for help, but I knew that it was something I had to do. They were my last hope and I could not afford to give up now.
A week later, I was standing in front of a gleaming high-rise building, craning my neck to take in its intimidating glory. At the very top of the building there was a large sign that read 'Oilmex', the name of Gilbert Hall's oil company. I had been mentally preparing myself the entire train ride here, as well as the entire week, to not be intimidated, but this obvious display of wealth made me want to turn right around and go back home.
I was in new territory here, completely out of my depth. Not just because of the skyscraper but the city too. I had never been in a city as large as this. My mother and I had travelled to many cities and towns around the country, but never this one. This one was colder, not just in temperature, thanks to the dark clouds looming in the sky, but the people too. Pedestrians zoomed past each other everyone seeming to be in some rush to get to where they were going, their noses glued onto their phones. When they did interact, it was mostly unfriendly.
"Move it lady! What are you, stupid?" Startled, I gaped at the man who had just shoved past me in disbelief. Case in point.
Though the man had been incredibly rude, he had also broken me out the spell that had glued my feet to the pavement. So, steeling my spine, I made my way inside the building.
If the exterior of the building shouted wealth, the interior screamed power. The interior design was very modern with white, silver and gray primary colors.
I noticed the weird stares I was receiving as I made my way to the large gray reception desk. Amongst the immaculately dressed business men and women, I stood out like a sore thumb in my bright yellow ankle length floral dress that had definitely seen better days. But it was the only presentable thing I owned...well the only thing that wasn't so obviously worn out. It didn't help that I was wearing the once black now grey Chuck Taylor's mom had bought for me from goodwill three years ago on my twenty-first birthday.
"Hello." I greeted trying to grab the receptionist's attention, but she mustn't have heard me because she kept on typing away at her computer.
"Hello." I repeated a little louder than before.
Judging from the strange looks I got, I might have said it a lot louder than I had meant to. The receptionist reluctantly pulled her eyes from the monitor and focused her gaze on me, clearly annoyed that I was pulling her attention away from her important work. Guilt and embarrassment caused heat to creep into my face. I never liked being a burden to people, which was ironic considering the reason why I was here this morning. But it wasn't for me, I reminded myself, it was for my mother.
I smiled at the woman but her face remained stoic as she looked me up and down before raising her brow. It wasn't a look I was unfamiliar with.
"I am here to meet with Gilbert Hall." My voice came out less confident than I intended.
The woman, Jennifer Medler according to her name tag, looked at me like I had just sprouted another head right before her eyes.
There was a long uncomfortable pause before she asked "And what is your business with Mr. Hall?"
Luckily, I had prepared for this exact question. I dug around in my tote bag for a moment while Jennifer studied my movements with unease. With a small triumphant 'aha', I pulled out two photographs, the one I had found and printed out in the library of mom and Gilbert Hall and a polaroid selfie I took of her and I in a lavender field two months before the accident.
I held out both pictures for her to see.
"My name is Dahlia Saunders, Eliz- um Juliette Hall is my mother." I took a deep breath, knowing there was no turning back after this. "I am Gilbert Hall's Granddaughter."