She is rushed to the hospital, bright lights flashing across her pale face while nurses shout orders down the corridor. The stretcher rattles across the floor, each turn echoing through the sterile halls. Every minute stretches longer than the last. Her heartbeat flickers on the monitor like a fragile rhythm refusing to fade, a small pulse of resistance in a body that is slowly surrendering. The doctors move with calm urgency, their faces masks of focus and fatigue. They draw blood, run scans, and whisper medical terms her family cannot understand. Her mother stands in the corner clutching her purse, whispering prayers beneath her breath. Her father keeps asking questions that no one has time to answer.

Continues…