Onika, a single mother, is desperate to find a cure for her daughter's mysterious illness. Just as hope fades, she meets Dr. Beyoncé Knowles, a determined doctor who refuses to give up.
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Onika Maraj Queens, New York
As soon as Beyoncé said we needed to go to the hospital and that they had been trying to reach us, I felt my heart drop. Without thinking, I rushed into the shower, the water barely registering as I scrubbed myself down.
My mind was racing, every terrible possibility flashing before me. I kept picturing Amora, helpless, needing me. I dried off quickly and threw on my clothes, my hands trembling as I fumbled with my shirt.
Beyoncé was already by the door. We hurried down to the car, and I jumped in, my mind spinning.
"Bey, tell me what's going on," I pleaded, my voice shaky.
She kept her eyes on the road, calm, too calm. "I don't know the details yet, Nic, but they've been trying to reach us. We'll find out when we get there."
That didn't help. My hands gripped the seat tightly, my breath shallow. "Bey, what if something's really wrong? What if she—" I couldn't finish the sentence. I just couldn't.
"Stop," Beyoncé said softly but firmly, reaching over to grab my hand. "Don't think like that. She's going to be okay."
We pulled up to the hospital, and Beyoncé handed the keys to the valet. I was already halfway out of the car.
Inside, we headed for the elevator, and that's when my nerves really hit. Every floor we passed felt like an eternity. I was on edge, my breath coming out in short bursts. "Bey, what if—"
"Nicki," she interrupted, turning to me.
She stepped closer, lifting my chin gently and kissing me. I blinked, still too caught up in my anxiety to really register it. "Everything is okay," she whispered, her eyes steady on mine.
I pulled back, shaking my head.
The elevator doors opened, and we walked down the hall to her room. But the second we got to the door, I froze.
My feet wouldn't move. I just stood there, staring at the door, my heart racing in my chest. What if I couldn't handle whatever was inside?
"Nicki," Beyoncé said gently, her hand resting on the small of my back. "Come on. She's okay. We have to go in."
I shook my head, feeling tears sting my eyes. "I can't. What if—what if something's wrong?" My voice cracked, and I hated how weak I sounded.
Beyoncé wiped the tears from my cheeks, her touch soft and reassuring. "You're stronger than you think, Nic. Let's go see her." She grabbed my hand, and together we walked in.
The first thing I heard was Amora's little voice, and my heart just about burst. She was talking to the doctor, her small voice so full of life.
"Mommy makes me good food. And she's really pretty," Amora said, smiling up at the doctor.
