The hospital lights felt colder than usual.
Lina ran through the hallway, breath uneven.
"…Room 203—"
She burst inside.
"Ma—!"
Her mother lay unconscious.
Machines beeping softly.
Her brother stood in the corner, crying.
"Ate… they said she got worse…"
Lina rushed to her side.
"No… no… you said you were getting better…"
Her hands trembled.
Her mind raced.
Doctor visits.
Medicine.
Bills—
Bills.
Her chest tightened.
"…I'll fix this," she whispered.
"I'll do something…"
But for the first time—
Lina felt it.
Fear.
Real fear.
That no matter how hard she worked—
It might not be enough.
Outside the room—
A doctor spoke quietly.
"She needs immediate treatment."
"How much?" Lina asked.
The number hit like a storm.
Her vision blurred.
"…I understand," she said weakly.
But she didn't.
Not really.
Because there was no way—
No possible way—
She could afford it.
That night—
Lina sat alone in the hallway.
Head down.
Hands clenched.
"…What do I do…"
For once—
There was no smile.