"I'm sorry, Miss Annabella... I really am. But there's nothing I can do. It's not in my hands anymore," the doctor said gently, his voice laced with pity. His eyes met hers for a fleeting second-filled with empathy but void of solutions.

"Doctor, please-" she choked out through trembling lips.

But he was already turning away, two nurses trailing behind him down the corridor, their white shoes tapping softly on the cold hospital floor.

Annabella stood frozen, the weight of helplessness settling on her like a suffocating blanket. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she fought back another wave of tears. Five million dollars. That was the cost of her mother's survival. A number so large, it may as well have been a death sentence.

She had lost her job just last night-for standing up to a man who had groped her at work. She didn't regret shouting at him, even if it cost her everything. But now, it felt like the universe was laughing at her courage.

She turned slowly and walked toward her mother's ward, her steps heavy with sorrow. As she reached the doorway, she paused. She couldn't go in. Not yet.

Her mother lay unconscious in the hospital bed, pale and frail, the soft beeping of the machines the only sign that life still lingered within her. Annabella stared from the threshold, her heart clenching painfully.

She didn't want to break-not in front of her.

"I need to stay strong," she whispered to herself. "For her."

'You'll be fine, momma,' she said inwardly, clinging to a hope that was slowly slipping through her fingers. Momma-she had called her that since she could speak. That word was comfort, love, safety... everything.

But now... now she feared it would become just a memory.

She exited the ward quietly, her heart in shambles. As she rounded the corner, still lost in thought, she bumped into someone-hard.

"Oof-!" The man stumbled slightly, his package dropping from his hands.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, quickly bending to retrieve the parcel. Their eyes met for a moment-his eyes dark and intense, hers wet and hollow.

"Thank you," he said softly, watching her walk away.

He stood there for a moment, staring after her. Something about the sadness in her eyes struck him. The way she held her pain so tightly inside. He felt... curious. And oddly concerned. But Annabella didn't notice. Her mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts of money, her mother, and the fear of losing the only person she had left.

Soon, she found herself standing in front of a familiar apartment door. She took a deep breath, then knocked. This was her last hope-Sandra.

The door swung open a moment later, and Sandra's sharp eyes scanned her from head to toe.

"Hey, girl," Sandra said, stepping aside. "What's wrong?"

Annabella stepped in and collapsed into the nearest couch, her shoulders shaking as she broke into sobs. Sandra sat beside her, her earlier boldness softening.

Between gasps and sobs, Annabella told her everything. The hospital. The money. Her mom. Her desperation.

Sandra lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before she spoke. "I'll help you, Anna..."

Annabella looked up, eyes red with hope.

"But you'll have to do something for me."

The air shifted. Something about the way Sandra said it made Annabella's heart clench.

"What... what do you mean?" she asked quietly, though part of her already knew.

Sandra smirked, flicking ash into a tray. Her tone turned flirtatious, and her eyes held a teasing gleam. "C'mon now, don't play dumb. You know exactly what I mean."

"Sandra, can't you at least-"

"If you don't want my help, then leave," Sandra snapped, cutting her off. "I'm not begging you."

She stood up, exhaling smoke as she walked toward the window. Sandra wasn't the same girl she used to be. Life had broken her long ago-when her sister died from a sickness they couldn't afford to treat. That pain had hardened her, turning her into what she called "a survivor."

"I offered you a hand, but you don't want it," Sandra continued, shrugging. "So don't come crying later."

Chara, Sandra's equally wild roommate, stood leaning on the wall, phone in hand, grinning like a snake.

"Maybe if you take off that hoodie and let the boys get a peek at those bouncing babies," Sandra said with a wink, "you might just save your mom. You know where to find me."

"Sandy, please... listen to me. I can't-"

Sandra brushed her off and shoved her gently. Annabella stumbled backward a little.

"Don't be such a drama queen," Chara laughed mockingly.

Annabella's jaw tightened, her fists clenched at her side, but she said nothing.

"I won't give up," she whispered under her breath, her voice trembling but determined. "I won't live that life. Not even for five million."

She turned and headed toward the door.

Sandra's voice cut through the silence one last time.

"Don't let your mom die like mine did, Annabella," she said, her tone suddenly raw. "Don't be stupid like me. If I had done what I'm telling you to do now, my sister would still be breathing."

Annabella froze at the door.

"I don't have until next week, Sandra," she cried, her back still turned. "If I don't pay by tomorrow, they'll discharge her. And we can't treat her at home. We can't even afford the medicine!"

Her voice broke. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You can treat her with your so-called virginity," Sandra sneered, laughing bitterly like the whole thing was a joke.

Annabella didn't respond. She opened the door and stepped out, the sharp sting of humiliation and despair slicing through her chest.

She walked down the street, her eyes blurred with tears, her steps unsteady-but her heart still clung to a single thread of dignity.

She had nothing.But she still had herself.

And she wouldn't sell that-not even for her mother's life.

Or should she?

No she can't and she won't. She won't lose hope at all.

She walked down the street, her eyes blurred with tears, her steps unsteady-but her heart still clung to a single thread of dignity.

She had nothing.

But she still had herself.

And she wouldn't sell that-not even for her mother's life.

Or would she?

As she turned the corner, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She stopped, hesitating before pulling it out.

It was a message from the hospital:

"URGENT: Patient status critical. Immediate attention required. Call back now."

Her vision blurred again-not from tears this time, but panic.

She quickly dialed.

"Hello? This is Miss Annabella-my mother, what happened?!"

The nurse's voice came through, calm but clipped.

"Miss Annabella, your mother's condition has deteriorated. If the payment isn't made by morning, we have no choice but to discharge her. We're sorry."