"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.