The sterile hum of the hospital room was broken only by the soft beeping of monitors beside Lily’s bed. Ava hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, her hand gently clasping her sister’s small, cold fingers as she watched her chest rise and fall under the thin white sheet.
She flinched when the door opened.
A woman in a white coat stepped in, mid-thirties, with a kind but serious expression. Her dark hair was tied into a neat bun, and her name tag read Dr. Elise Grant. She offered Ava a soft smile before glancing at the little girl on the bed.
“Miss Morales?” she asked gently, her voice professional but warm.
Ava stood, her eyes still red from crying. “Yes, I’m Ava. Her older sister,” she added quickly. “I’m her guardian.”
Dr. Grant nodded. “Would you mind stepping into my office so we can talk privately?”
Dread began curling in Ava’s stomach like smoke. She gave Lily’s hand one last squeeze before following the doctor out of the room.
The office was small and quiet, with soft lighting and a few plush chairs arranged across from a wooden desk. Medical degrees lined the walls, and a tissue box sat prominently in the center of the desk as if it had seen too much grief, too many broken hearts.
Dr. Grant gestured to a seat, and Ava sank into it slowly.
The doctor folded her hands. “We’ve run a few tests and stabilized Lily for now,” she began. “But I need to be honest with you.”
Ava’s throat tightened.
“She has a congenital heart condition, specifically, a severe form of cardiomyopathy. It’s genetic, and unfortunately, her heart is weakening faster than we would normally expect for someone her age.”
Ava stared at her, eyes wide and unblinking. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
“She’ll need surgery,” the doctor continued gently. “As soon as possible.”
It felt like the room tilted.
Ava gripped the armrests of the chair, her breath catching. “S-surgery?” she echoed.
Dr. Grant nodded solemnly. Within two days. It’s critical. If not treated immediately, her condition could worsen fatally.”
Tears welled in Ava’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them. She didn’t sob, didn’t break down with noise. She just sat there, silent, helpless, her pain leaking out in quiet, trembling tears.
“I…” she choked, wiping her face with shaking fingers. “I knew she was tired sometimes. I thought maybe it was stress… school… not enough sleep. I didn’t think…”
“It’s not your fault,” Dr. Grant said gently. “It’s inherited. Do you know if there’s a family history of heart disease?”
Ava swallowed hard. “My father. He died of heart failure when I was eighteen. He couldn’t afford surgery in time. And my mother…” She exhaled shakily. She passed away three weeks later. Depression, grief. She… she stopped eating, stopped living. Lily was five. I’ve been raising her ever since.”
The room fell silent, the weight of Ava’s story sinking into the space between them.
Dr. Grant’s expression softened further. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. And I know this isn’t easy to hear.” She reached for a folder on her desk and slid it toward Ava. “The cost for the surgery, including post-op care and medication, comes to fifty thousand dollars.”
The number hit like a brick.
Ava blinked, stunned. “Fifty… thousand?”
“I understand it’s overwhelming. But we don’t have much time,” the doctor said carefully. “Please, do whatever you can. Borrow. Fundraise. Sell things. I know it’s a lot, but this surgery could save her life.”
Ava didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
Her hands slowly covered her face as a low, choked cry escaped her lips. Her shoulders shook with the force of silent weeping. She had nothing. No savings. No job that paid more than the minimum wage. No family left. Ethan, her last emotional anchor, had just thrown her away like she was worthless.
“Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?” she whispered, mostly to herself.
Dr. Grant stood and moved around the desk, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know it feels impossible. But don’t give up. You have two days. Just two. I’ll have my team monitor Lily around the clock until then.”
Ava nodded numbly.
Two days.
Forty-eight hours to save her sister’s life.
And she was already out of time.
Ava walked the corridor in silence, her heart heavier than ever before. The soft lighting of the hospital mocked her, reminding her of the impossible countdown that had just begun.
Two days. Fifty thousand dollars. Or I will lose her forever.
When she reached Room 203 again, she paused in the doorway. Lily was still asleep, her small frame barely making a dent in the stiff white sheets. The monitor beeped steadily beside her, and the oxygen tube still rested beneath her nose.
Ava stepped inside quietly, her shoes soft against the linoleum floor. She pulled the chair close to the bed and sat down, gently taking Lily’s hand into hers again. It was so small. So warm. So alive.
And Ava couldn’t let that slip away.
She reached forward, brushing her knuckles gently against her sister’s cheek. “Hey, baby,” she whispered, her voice raw. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”
Lily didn’t stir, but Ava continued speaking as if she could hear her.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs. You’ve always been so strong, haven’t you? Just like Mom used to say, my little sunshine. Always smiling. Always laughing.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and she rested her forehead against their joined hands, fighting back more tears.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do it,” she whispered. “But I’ll find a way. I’ll get the money, Lily. Even if I have to sell my soul to do it.”
A beat of silence passed.
Then, slowly, she stood up and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Lily’s forehead. “Hang in there for me. Just two days. That’s all I need.”
She stood up and turned to leave. As she opened the door, she looked at her sister again before she exited the room.
The city was colder than usual that night. The breeze whipped through Ava’s hair as she walked without knowing where she was going, her thoughts a storm of fear and desperation. Streetlights flickered above her, and the distant hum of traffic barely reached her ears.
She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t slept. She didn’t even realize where her feet had taken her until she stopped in front of a glowing neon sign.
Velvet Ember.
A bar. Upscale. Quiet. The kind of place where the rich came to drink their sins away.
Ava stared at the sign, the letters blurring behind the sheen of tears in her eyes. Her reflection stared back at her faintly in the glass door, tired, pale, lost.
But this… this was her last option.
Sell your soul, remember?
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. She took a slow, trembling breath as the bass from inside pulsed softly through the ground beneath her.
Then, she stepped forward, reaching for the handle.
And entered the darkness.