Chapter One
1130 Words
“I’m sorry, but it’s terminal.”
The words didn’t feel real.
They hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating, like something I could reach out and push away if I tried hard enough.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t even blink.
Terminal.
No… that couldn’t be right.
I stared at the doctor sitting across from me, his expression calm, practised—too practised. Like he’d said these words a hundred times before. Like this was just another Tuesday for him.
But for me?
My whole world had just been ripped apart.
“There… there must be something else,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. It didn’t even sound like me. It sounded small. Fragile. Like it might break if I spoke any louder.
The doctor sighed softly, folding his hands together on the desk. “We’ve explored all available treatment options through standard care. At this stage, our focus is on keeping your mother as comfortable as possible.”
Comfortable.
I almost laughed.
What was comfortable about dying?
“No,” I shook my head quickly, the movement sharp, desperate. “No, you don’t understand. She’s my mum. She’s all I have. There has to be something—anything. A trial? Private treatment? Something you haven’t told me yet?”
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—sympathy, maybe. Or pity.
I hated it.
“There are private facilities that offer more advanced care,” he admitted carefully. “But they are extremely expensive, and even then… there are no guarantees.”
Expensive.
Of course they were.
Everything that could save a life always came with a price tag.
My chest tightened painfully, like something was pressing down on it. “How much?” I asked, even though I already knew I wouldn’t be able to afford it.
He hesitated, just for a second. “Tens of thousands. Potentially more, depending on the treatment plan.”
The room tilted.
Tens of thousands.
I didn’t even have a fraction of that.
Not even close.
“I see,” I murmured, even though I didn’t see anything at all.
The doctor reached across the desk, sliding a box of tissues toward me. I hadn’t even realised I was crying until I felt the warmth of tears slipping down my cheeks.
I grabbed one quickly, wiping at my face, smudging my makeup in the process.
God, I must look like a mess.
But I didn’t care.
Nothing mattered except the fact that my mum was dying… and I couldn’t stop it.
“I’m so sorry, Maya,” the doctor said gently.
Sorry.
Everyone was always sorry.
But sorry didn’t fix anything.
Sorry didn’t save lives.
Sorry didn’t give me the money I needed.
I pushed back my chair suddenly, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. “Thank you,” I said automatically, even though the words felt empty. “For… telling me.”
I couldn’t sit there anymore.
Couldn’t breathe in that room.
If I stayed any longer, I thought I might completely fall apart.
And I couldn’t afford to do that.
Not now.
Not when I had so much to figure out.
⸻
The air outside the hospital was cold and damp, the sky a dull grey that stretched endlessly overhead. It felt wrong—how normal everything looked.
People walked past me, laughing, talking, living their lives like nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
My world had just ended.
I stepped out onto the pavement, wrapping my arms around myself as a chill ran through me. I wasn’t even sure if it was from the weather or from the emptiness settling deep inside my chest.
Terminal.
The word echoed in my mind, over and over again.
My mum.
My only family.
The only person who had ever been there for me—through everything.
And now I was going to lose her.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing, but it wasn’t working. The more I tried to hold it together, the worse it felt.
I needed to think.
I needed to figure something out.
There had to be a way.
There had to be—
My phone rang.
The sound cut sharply through the noise of the street, making me jump. My heart raced as I pulled it out of my pocket, my stomach dropping the moment I saw the name on the screen.
Joe.
Of course.
Because things weren’t bad enough already.
For a second, I considered ignoring it.
But that would only make things worse.
Taking a shaky breath, I pressed answer and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Have you got my money yet?”
His voice was low, rough, and instantly threatening.
I closed my eyes briefly, steadying myself. “No… not yet,” I said carefully. “But I will. I just need a bit more time—”
“You’ve already had time,” he snapped, cutting me off. “I’m not running a charity, Maya.”
“I know, I know,” I rushed out quickly. “I’m trying, okay? Things have just—”
“I don’t care,” he said coldly. “End of the week. That’s your deadline.”
My grip tightened around the phone. “Please,” I whispered. “Just give me a little longer. I swear I’ll pay you back, every penny—”
“You don’t seem to understand how this works,” he said, his voice dropping even lower. “If I don’t get my money, I come and collect it in other ways.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“I’ll have it,” I said quickly, panic creeping into my voice. “I promise. Just—don’t come near me. Or my friend. Please.”
There was a pause on the other end.
Then a quiet, unsettling chuckle.
“You better hope that promise means something,” he said. “Because I’ll be watching.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly, my hand trembling.
For a moment, I just stood there, frozen.
Then everything hit me all at once.
My mum was dying.
I had no money.
And now I had someone threatening me on top of it all.
A broken laugh escaped my lips, quickly turning into a sob I couldn’t hold back.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to quiet it, but it didn’t help. Tears streamed down my face, blurring everything around me.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to myself. “I can’t…”
But I had to.
Because there was no one else.
No one coming to save me.
No miracle waiting around the corner.
Just me.
And a clock that was already running out.
- Writer
