CHAPTER 1

Mei’s POV

No, no, no…

The dish slipped from my fingers and shattered against the floor.

But I didn't hear it..the sound didn’t register in my head.

I didn't hear anything except the sound my grandmother, a soft exhale like all the air leaving her body at once.

One second she was laughing at the game show on our TV.

And then, the next, she was slumped sideways in her armchair, her face was white and pale.

She wasn’t responsive…

"Grandma?!” I stepped foward, my tone urgent.

She didn't answer me. Not even a single movement…

"Grandma!"

I was across the room before I knew I moved as my knees hit the floor hard enough to bruise, but I barely felt it.

No, no, no.

“Grandma, wake up! “ “wake up please!” I tapped her skin, it was cold..her hand was cold.

She was barely breathing. If at all.

My phone. Where was my phone?

The kitchen! Shit!

I dashed to the kitchen at once and found it buried under a pile of unpaid bills.

I dialed 911 with fingers that wouldn't stop shaking.

A voice came from the line. “Hello?”

“Hello, pelsse I have an emergency.. my grandma- she’s not breathing.

She’s not moving, please—“

“Ma’am, please calm down and tell us your address, we’ll be sending a team there as quickly as we can.”

I stumbled the words out.

“Okay ma’am. Stay put.”

"Please hurry, please hurry, she's not breathing right, please—"

I kept on pleading into the line until it went dead.

Within five minutes, the paramedics came, the sound coming like a lifeline to my ear.

Those five minutes were the longest of my life by far.

They took her on a trolley and guided her to the back of the ambulance van.

I followed them every step of the way, my eyes red wuth tears and more still coming…

“Miss?” Two of the paramedics approached me as they loaded my gramda inside.

“Mei.” I responded, my tone shaky.

One of the paramedic, a man, middle aged, jet black hair and specs then asked.  “Do you have insurance?”

I shook my head. “No..”

They looked at each other, then at me, giving that look. The one I’ve basically been getting my whole life.

The look that said, poor thing, and also, this is going to be expensive.

I rode in the ambulance holding her hand. She was unconscious by then, an oxygen mask strapped to her face. Her fingers were still cold. I kept trying to warm them with my own, like I could give her my heat, my life, anything she needed.

The arrival tp the hospital, was a blur of white lights and the thick scent of antiseptic…

They wheeled her through doors of the ICU room and told me to wait. So I waited.

And waited. And waited.

Every minute felt like a lifetime.

Please be okay… please be okay…

Than, the doors to the ICU room opened and a female doctor stepped out.

She was young, maybe thirty, her expression kind, but pitiful in way.

"Miss Forbes?"

I stood up so sharply, my knees nearly buckled on me . "Is she okay? Can I see her?"

She shook her head. “Not yet.” “But I’ll need to talk to you alone…if you don’t mind.”

I nodded sharply. “Okay.”

“Follow me.”  She turned and led me to a small room with a table and two chairs.

When she sat across me, and I saw the grim expresion now on her face.

I knew one thing for sure—I was getting bad news. My heart started pounding so loud in my chest, I thought it might tear right out.

“What is it doctor?” I asked, my tone impatient now.

She took a deep sigh and spoke. "Your grandmother suffered a major cardiac event," the doctor said, her tone clipped. "She's stable for now, but she needs surgery. Soon."

"Okay." My voice sounded far away. "Okay, so do the surgery."

The doctor hesitated and that hesitation told me everything.

"The surgery is expensive," she said gently. "And hospital policy requires a deposit before we can schedule it."

Deposit?! "How much?" I asked slowly.

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

The words landed in the room like a bomb. The number didn't make sense in my brain.

Not even a little.

I sat there like a foriegn word. One hundred and fifty thousand?!

I made twelve hundred a month at the diner, my  rent was eight hundred. My entire apartment…the furniture, the dishes, the old TV…was worth maybe two thousand on a good day.

"I don't have that," I said.

"I know." The doctor's voice was soft. "I'm sorry. We can look into financial assistance, but the application process takes time. And your grandmother…" She paused. "She has twenty-four to forty-eight hours..”

"Twenty fours…before what?” I was afraid to ask, but did.

She shook her head, her eyes dark. “Before she dies.”

My world fell apart in that moment—nothing else around me made sense.

Twenty four hours before I lost the only family I had. The only family I had ever known…

"Every hour we wait, her chances decrease. I'm so sorry." The doctor added but I was barely listening at this point.

The doctor took an excuse and left me in the silence.

I just stared at nothing—I didn’t cry there. I couldn’t…

Maybe because crying felt like a luxury I couldn't afford or maybe because if I started, I wouldn't stop.

She was all I have.

My mother…whoever she was, if she even existed, had left me on my grandmother's doorstep when I was a baby without an explanation.

My grandmother, who was already struggling to make ends meet, took me in without hesitation. She raised me on a fixed income and love. She never complained and  never made me feel like a burden.

And now she was dying because I couldn't afford to save her.

I didn’t know how, or what mental strength I was able to muster up, but someho I showed up for my midnight shift at a diner was called Rosie's.

It was a place that had seen better days. I’ve worked there for three years. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Tonight, it felt like nothing.

When I clocked in with desd eyes at 11 AM, my boss, Marco, was in the back counting the register.

Marco was fifty-something, with a receding hairline and a very nasty attitude.

He skimmed tips, he cut corners tp save as much money as he could.

Heck, the only reason he hired me because I was desperate enough to work for minimum wage and never complain.

The shift started like any other night. I served coffee, served tea, pizza, eggs…all of it, all while placing a fake smile on my lips.

Every few minutes, I checked my phone. Nothing.

The hospital hadn't updated me. I didn't know if that was good or bad.

At 3 AM, Marco went to the back to do inventory. I was alone at the counter.

And I saw it. The safe.

I didn’t know why my eyes turned to it, but it did and I couldn’t look way.

Marco opened it every night to count the day's earnings. Ive watched him do it a hundred times.

I knew the combination, I even knew where he kept the key.

And…I knew it held thousands of dollars.

My heart started racing a couple of beats faster.

I thought about my grandmother then, and the staggering amount I needed..

The safe had around ten or maybe two thousand dollars. It wasn’t enough. Far from it…

But it was something.

I glanced toward the back. Marco was still gone and the diner was empty.

No one would know.

My hand moved before I could stop it.

I punched in the combination and it clicked open to reveal stacks of cash.

I grabbed a stack and counted five thousand dollars..

My hands were shaking now. I was ahout to reach again. Then—

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I froze.

Marco stood in the doorway, his face tinged with rage.