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Ashley POV

I pressed my forehead against the cool window and watched the streets pass by.

My brother couldn’t afford to wait for me to get over a heartbreak.

Neither could I afford to fall apart.

By the time I arrived at St. Mike Hospital, I’d managed to convince myself that everything would somehow work out.

Not because I had a plan.

I just didn’t have the luxury of entertaining the alternative.

I headed straight to Dr. Hart’s office and knocked.

“Come in.”

I opened the door.

“Hi, Doc.”

He looked up from his desk and removed his glasses.

“Ashley. It’s nice to see you again.”

“I wish I could say the same to you.”

He laughed.

“Wow. Is that how you greet someone who’s been taking care of your brother for five years?”

“Sorry, Doctor. I’m going through a lot. Please forgive me.”

“Of course.” His smile softened as he studied my face. “What’s wrong? Why do you look so sad?”

“It’s nothing much, honestly.”

He raised an eyebrow.

I sighed.

“Okay, fine. It’s a lot, actually, but that’s not why I’m here.”

I took a seat opposite him and looked down at my fingers.

“So, about the payment,” I began. “Is there any way I can pay in instalments? Or perhaps we could arrange a payment plan that allows me to spread the cost over several months? Even a few years, if that’s possible.”

I kept my eyes on my hands.

I hated this part.

I hated having to sit in front of someone and explain that I couldn’t afford to keep my brother alive. I hated that, after everything we’d already been through, money was still standing between him and the chance to live a normal life.

I had experienced enough humiliation that afternoon. I wasn’t about to add crying in a doctor’s office to the list.

Dr. Hart leaned back in his chair.

“Honestly, Ashley, I wish I could tell you otherwise, but we don’t have an instalment or payment plan available for this procedure.”

I swallowed.

“Oh.”

“I know how difficult it will be for you to raise that amount. I really do.” He paused. “What I can do is speak to the hospital management board and see whether we can find a donor willing to cover some of the cost. There are people who support cases like your brother’s, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Okay.”

“You could also try contacting relatives or friends who might be able to contribute. Crowdfunding is another option. We’ve had patients raise substantial amounts through it. One patient managed to raise thirty million dollars in a month.”

Thirty million dollars.

In a month.

I tried to imagine what it would feel like to open a fundraising page and watch people contribute towards saving my brother’s life.

I also tried not to imagine what it would feel like if nobody did.

“Those are my suggestions,” he continued gently. “I wish I had more options to offer you, Ashley. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, forcing a smile.

“It’s okay, Doctor. Thank you for trying.”

“One more thing. We need the deposit within two weeks to retain the donor arrangement and proceed with the treatment.”

“I understand.”

He looked at me for a moment.

“You’re an incredible sister, Ashley. Your brother is lucky to have you. I’m rooting for you, and I’ll do what I can on my end.”

Oh, God.

That nearly broke me.

It wasn’t the money. It wasn’t even the deadline.

It was the kindness.

I blinked rapidly.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

I stood before my face could betray me any further.

“Thank you so much.”

I left his office and headed towards my brother’s room.

Jason was sitting up when I entered, looking considerably more cheerful than I’d expected.

“Hi, Jason.”

His face lit up.

“Ashley!”

I walked over to him and pulled him into a hug.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m happy because you’re here.” He grinned at me. “And because I’m finally getting my transplant soon. Do you know what that means?”

I forced a smile.

“What does it mean?”

“It means I can finally start living like a normal person!”

He laughed, and I laughed with him, even though something inside my chest was slowly coming apart.

“I’m so happy, Ashley. You don’t even understand.”

I understood.

I understood what it meant to spend years in and out of hospitals, to have your life put on hold while everyone else moved forward. I understood how badly he wanted to leave all of this behind him.

And I might not be able to give him what he was hoping for.

I hugged him again, holding him a little tighter than usual.

“I’m happy too, Jason.”

He pulled away and looked at me.

“Are you crying?”

I immediately wiped my face.

“No. Why would I be crying?”

“Your eyes are red.”

“Maybe I’m developing an allergy to your face.”

He laughed.

“Very funny.”

“I know. I’m a comedian in my spare time.”

We spent the next few minutes talking. He told me about something he’d watched on television, complained about the hospital food, and asked whether I’d brought him anything to eat.

I promised to bring him something on my next visit.

For a little while, I let myself forget about the money.

I let myself enjoy his laughter, his excitement, and the way he kept talking about all the things he wanted to do once he was better.

He wanted to go out with his friends without worrying about another hospital appointment. He wanted to travel. He wanted to stop watching life happen from a hospital bed.

He wanted to live.

Eventually, I told him I needed to step out for a bit.

“Don’t stay away too long,” he said.

“I won’t.”

I smiled at him and walked out of the room.

The moment the door closed behind me, my smile disappeared.

How was I supposed to do this?

How was I supposed to raise twenty million dollars in two weeks?

How was I supposed to look Jason in the eye and tell him that the treatment he’d been waiting years for might not happen because his sister couldn’t afford it?

I leaned against the corridor wall and pressed my palms against my eyes.

I couldn’t tell him that, after all the waiting, all the pain, and all the years he’d spent fighting to get better, I might not be able to help him take the next step.

I had no money. No payment plan. No guarantee that crowdfunding would work. No assurance that the hospital management board would find someone willing to help.

And I had absolutely no intention of going back to Josh.

I slid my hands down my face and stared at the floor.

Then, suddenly, I remembered.

The message.

The strange, almost ridiculous message that had started all of this.