Isabella's phone rang at 2:14 AM on a Tuesday.
She jerked awake, heart already racing, because calls at 2 AM were never good news. Her mother. It had to be her mother.
"Ms. Hart?" An unfamiliar voice, professional but urgent. "This is Dr. Chen from Memorial Hospital. Your mother was brought in an hour ago. She's stable, but—"
"I'm on my way," Isabella interrupted, already out of bed, already pulling on clothes with shaking hands.
"Ms. Hart, before you come, you should know—her condition is serious. She needs emergency surgery. The tumor has—"
Isabella's world tilted. "Surgery. How much?"
"The estimated cost is around $180,000, but—"
Isabella's legs gave out. She sat down hard on the bed, her phone pressed to her ear, unable to breathe. $180,000. She had maybe $15,000 saved. The contract money wouldn't come for another year. Her mother's insurance was maxed out. There was no way—
"Ms. Hart? Are you still there?"
