Malissa stared at the hospital number flashing across her phone screen, her hand trembling so badly she almost dropped the device. For a moment she could not move, could not breathe. The world seemed to shrink into that single glowing screen.
She answered.
"Miss Fisher," the nurse's voice was urgent and clipped. "Your mother's condition is unstable. You need to come immediately."
Her heart dropped into her stomach. "I'll be there," she said quickly, her voice barely steady.
She grabbed her bag and rushed out of the apartment without even turning off the lights.
The night air hit her face as she ran down the street, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Cars passed, headlights blurring into streaks of white and yellow as she waved desperately for a taxi.
A car finally pulled over. She opened the door and slid into the seat, her voice shaking as she gave the hospital's address.
The taxi moved, but it felt too slow. Every red light felt like an enemy. Every second stretched endlessly. She stared out the window at the city lights, her mind racing through memories and fears.
She remembered her mother cooking dinner when she was younger, laughing while calling her to the table. She remembered her father fixing broken things around the house, telling jokes that made her mother roll her eyes. She remembered a time when life had been simple and warm and safe.
Her chest tightened painfully.
She thought about Alexander's cold voice, the contract on his desk, the way he had looked at her like he already knew she would come back.
She pressed her hands together tightly, trying to stop them from shaking.
Please let her be okay, she thought over and over again.
When the taxi finally stopped at the hospital entrance, she rushed out and ran inside, her footsteps echoing through the bright corridors.
The smell of disinfectant filled the air, and the fluorescent lights made everything look too white, too cold.
The doctor was already waiting in the hallway outside her mother's ward. His expression was serious, and Malissa felt her heart sink before he even spoke.
"Miss Fisher," he said calmly but firmly, "your mother's treatment has been delayed too long. The medication was stopped because the payment was not made. Her condition has worsened. We need to restart treatment immediately, but we cannot proceed without the deposit."
Malissa felt her knees weaken. She reached for the wall to steady herself.
"Please," she said, her voice cracking. "Please give me more time. I am trying to get the money."
The doctor sighed quietly. "We already delayed once to help you. We cannot delay again. The treatment needs to continue immediately, or her condition may become critical."
Her chest felt like it was burning. "If you stop the treatment, she will die," she whispered.
The doctor looked at her with sympathy but did not change his answer. "I am sorry. This is hospital policy. Without payment authorization, we cannot continue."
She nodded slowly, even though she felt like she was falling apart inside.
She walked into the ward slowly. Her mother lay against the pillows, looking smaller and weaker than ever before. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands looked thin and fragile on top of the blanket.
"Mom," Malissa whispered as she walked closer and took her hand gently.
Her mother opened her eyes slowly and smiled faintly when she saw her. "You look tired," she said softly.
Malissa forced a small smile. "It's just work. It's been busy lately."
Her mother squeezed her hand weakly. "Do not spend so much money on me. Stop wasting your life on hospital bills. You should live your own life, get a boyfriend maybe."
Tears filled Malissa's eyes immediately, but she blinked them back and smiled again. "You will be fine. I already told you mum. I'll make everything right again. I promise."
Her mother looked at her for a long moment, her eyes filled with sadness and guilt. "I am sorry for being a burden," she whispered.
Malissa shook her head quickly. "You are not a burden mum. Please. Don't say that again. Ever" she paused, blinking back her tears "You know I'll do anything for you."
She stayed beside the bed for a long time, holding her mother's hand even after her mother fell asleep again. She watched her chest rise and fall slowly and tried not to imagine what would happen if that breathing stopped.
When she finally stepped out of the room, the tears she had been holding back spilled down her face. She leaned against the wall in the hallway and covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from sobbing out loud.
After a few minutes, she wiped her face and pulled out her phone. She began calling people.
She called a friend from university and asked if she could borrow money. Her friend apologized and said she had just paid rent and had nothing left.
She called a distant cousin who said he would try but never called back.
She called another relative who said he was sorry but had his own family to take care of.
She tried applying for online loans again, but every application was rejected within minutes.
She thought about selling something else, but her apartment was already empty. The tablet was gone. The jewelry was gone. The merchandise was gone. Even some of her clothes were gone.
She called her boss and asked for a salary advance. Mrs Grant laughed lightly and said company policy did not allow advances.
Every door closed again.
Malissa slowly slid down the wall and sat on the cold hospital floor. The hallway was quiet, and the lights hummed softly above her. She buried her face in her hands and cried silently, her shoulders shaking.
She had tried everything. She had worked, sold her belongings, begged for help, applied for loans, visited lawyers, and endured humiliation at work. She had done everything she could think of.
And still, she was losing.
After a long time, she reached into her bag and pulled out Alexander's business card. She stared at the name printed on the white card.
Alexander Marquez.
His voice echoed in her mind.
Your mother does not have time for your pride.
You do not have any other options.
You need me.
She clenched the card tightly in her hand, her chest rising and falling as she tried to calm herself. Her pride had kept her fighting.
Now, it meant nothing. Pride could not pay hospital bills. Pride could not buy medicine. Pride could not save her mother.
She had fought. As hard as she could. And it still wasn't enough.
She had tried every door. Every single one.
And all of them, closed.
She sat there for a long time, staring at the floor, the business card still in her hand.
Finally, she slowly stood up. Her legs felt weak, but she forced herself to walk toward the hospital exit. The night air was cool when she stepped outside, but she barely felt it. Her mind was quiet now, strangely calm after hours of panic and crying.
She looked down at the business card one more time. Then she put it back into her bag.
She knew where she had to go.
Because this time,
she had no choice.