The hospital room was dim when Leo finally stood, every muscle in his body aching with exhaustion.
Lila had fallen asleep in the chair beside their mother's bed, head resting on folded arms, face streaked with dried tears.
Their mother still hadn't woken.
Leo watched the rise and fall of her chest, the steady beep of the heart monitor, and felt something hollow settle in his stomach.
Two hundred thousand.
One week.
He pulled out his phone, staring at Alex's messages—four missed calls, texts full of worry.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
I should tell him. I should explain—
But what would he say?
My mom's dying and I don't have the money to save her?
No.
He couldn't put that on Alex.
Couldn't ask him to—
Leo's chest tightened.
No. I can't. This is my problem. My family. I have to fix this.
He pocketed the phone without responding and quietly left the room.
The apartment was silent when he arrived home, the emptiness pressing in on all sides.
