“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice shaking.
My mother threw her hands up dramatically.
“The bill still isn’t paid,” she snapped. “What is taking you so long? Remember this—family comes first. Always.”
I screamed.
“My daughter is dying!”

Before anyone could react, my mother lunged forward.
She reached my child’s bed.
And then—
she grabbed Lily’s oxygen mask
and ripped it off her face.
“There,” she shrieked. “It’s done! She’s gone! Now move and come with us!”

Time stopped.
Lily’s body jerked violently. Her chest convulsed as she struggled for air. The monitors exploded into alarms—piercing, relentless.
Nurses rushed in, shouting. One dragged my mother away. Another forced the mask back onto Lily’s face, shouting orders I couldn’t even process.