A Terminal Diagnosis

Tessa turned off the kitchen faucet, the sudden silence in the small apartment feeling heavy. She piled the washed cherries and grapes onto a plate, took a deep breath, and forced her lips into a cheerful curve. She could not let her mother see the cracks in her marriage.

Walking back into the living room, the fake smile froze on her face.

Vera sat on the worn sofa, her hands resting on a striking red folder. The bright color of the paper seemed aggressive against the faded cushions. Before Tessa could put the fruit down, Vera stood up, her frail body swaying, and pressed the heavy document directly into her daughter's hands.

"Tessa, this apartment is going to be yours," Vera said, her voice thin but carrying an unsettling weight.

"Mom? Why are you suddenly giving me this?"

"Your grandmama gave this to me," Vera murmured, her eyes softening. "I've been sick my whole life. All I have left is this apartment."

Tessa shook her head. "Mom, why now? You don't need to give me this."

Vera shook her head, a dry cough escaping her lips. "I know my own body, Tessa. It is deteriorating quickly. I'm worried that if I pass on suddenly, I won't have settled everything before I go."

"Don't say that!" Tessa took her mother's hands, finding them icy cold. "You are going to live a long life. You have to stay by my side."

Vera patted her back. "You have your own family now. Think about Desmond. Try to get the artificial insemination done soon. It is strenuous, so the earlier you do it, the more time you'll have to recover."

She paused with quiet worry. "If you get into a quarrel with him in the future and his feelings change, you will need a place to go. As long as you have this apartment, you will always have a roof over your head."

Tessa bit her lip, trying to swallow her tears, terrified that if she spoke, she would break down and cause her mother more pain.

But Vera was lost in her own fears. "This place is small. But it is yours. It will keep you safe."

"We don't need to talk about this now," Tessa said. "We can live here together later. What's mine is yours."

"Oh, my sweet girl. I..."

Vera's words were cut off by a sudden, harsh cough.

Tessa patted her mother's back. "Mom? Why are you coughing so badly?"

"It's just a cold," Vera gasped, her face flushing an unnatural red. "I took some medicine earlier, but..."

Another hacking cough tore through Vera's throat.

"I'll get you some water," Tessa said, rushing to the kitchen. Behind her, the coughing grew louder and more desperate.

Tessa filled a glass and hurried back. But before she could hold it to her mother's lips, Vera's chest heaved. With a sickening, wet sound, a massive mouthful of dark red blood erupted from her lips, splattering across the floor and the red property file.

Vera's eyes rolled back, her body went limp, and she crashed to the floor, unresponsive.

"Mom!" Tessa screamed, the water glass shattering as it hit the ground.

Panic seized Tessa. Her hands shook so hard she could barely grip her phone as she knelt in the puddle of water and shattered glass. Swiping at the screen through her tears, she dialed Desmond's number. In this life-or-death moment, her husband was the only one she could turn to.

The phone rang twice. When the line connected, Tessa didn't wait. "Honey! Please, come over quickly! It's my mom, she—"

"It's you."

The voice on the other end was not Desmond's. It was Sloane's. The smooth, victorious tone was like ice water over Tessa's head, turning her terror into a cold, heavy lump.

"Where is Desmond?" Tessa gasped, her voice raw. "Put him on the phone. It's an emergency!"

In the background, she heard the low, familiar rumble of her husband's voice. "Who is it, Sloane?"

"It's Tessa," Sloane replied, her voice loud enough for the microphone to catch. "She's at her mother's place. She says her mother isn't feeling well..."

Tessa cried out, trying to reach past the woman on the line. "Desmond! Desmond, please! My mom is unconscious, she's spitting blood! I need you—"

"I'm busy. Have her call Gideon," Desmond's voice cut through the background. It was flat, dismissive, and devoid of concern.

Sloane's voice returned to the receiver, dripping with false sympathy. "Did you hear that, Tessa? Desmond is busy right now. He said..."

Tessa did not wait for Sloane to finish her gloating. She hung up.

The rejection stung, but her mother lying still on the floor snapped her back. She could not waste a single second crying over a husband who did not care if she lived or died.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and dialed emergency services.

"Hello, this is the Crestview Hospital hotline. What is your emergency?" A firm, calm male voice came through the speaker.

"My mom just fainted," Tessa said, her words spilling out in a frantic rush. "She was coughing badly, and then she vomited a large amount of blood. She's not responding. Please help me."

The doctor on the other end did not hesitate. "Give me your address. We will dispatch an ambulance immediately."

Tessa stammered out the address, her voice cracking.

"Alright, the ambulance is on its way," the doctor said, his steady tone cutting through her hysteria. "Now, listen to me. Carefully roll your mother onto her side. We need to keep her airway clear so she doesn't choke. Can you do that?"

"Yes... yes, I'm doing it," Tessa sobbed, gently turning Vera's frail body. The dark blood on her mother's lips sent a fresh wave of terror through her. "Please, tell them to hurry. She has never coughed up blood before."

"I am leaving the hospital with the crew now," the doctor said. "I am going to hang up this line, but I will call you back immediately from my private phone. Keep your line open."

"Okay," Tessa whispered.

A second later, her phone rang again. She swiped to answer.

"I'm here," the doctor's steady voice returned. "My name is Dr. Nolan Pierce. I will stay on the line with you until we arrive. Don't be afraid. Reach down and check her pulse. Tell me if it feels fast or weak."

Tessa pressed her trembling fingers against the side of her mother's neck. "It feels very weak... and fast. Dr. Pierce, please hurry."

"I'm right here. Keep talking to her, and keep monitoring her breathing," Nolan instructed. His calm presence was the only thing keeping Tessa from collapsing. Through the speaker, she could hear the distant wail of sirens growing louder, matching the rhythm of her frantic heartbeat.

Across the city, Desmond sat on the edge of a plush sofa, holding Sloane's right wrist. He was applying a soothing white medicinal cream to a red mark on her skin. His movements were gentle, his focus on her comfort.

Sloane looked up at him with a tender smile. "You are so good to me, Desmond. Don't be angry with Tessa. She is your wife."

Desmond's eyes darkened. "I won't. She is family." He finished applying the medicine, wiped his hands, and picked up his phone to call Tessa back.

In the hospital hallway, Tessa sat on a plastic chair outside the emergency room, her eyes fixed on the closed doors. Her phone began to vibrate. Seeing Desmond's name did not bring her any comfort.

She picked up the call, her voice flat. "Hello?"

"I was helping Sloane with her medicine, so I couldn't talk," Desmond said, his tone casual. "Did you call Gideon? How is your mother? Do you want me to come over?"

Tessa looked down at her hands, which were still stained with her mother's blood. Her grief had hardened into cold ice.

"This has nothing to do with you," she said, her voice devoid of any warmth.

Before Desmond could reply, she abruptly ended the call, shutting him out.

The heavy double doors of the emergency ward swung open. Dr. Nolan Pierce walked out, still wearing his scrubs and a sterile white coat. He carried a thick folder of medical reports.

He approached Tessa, his expression grave. "Are you Vera Vance's daughter? Come with me."

Tessa stood up immediately, her legs shaking. She followed him into the quiet ward where her mother lay under an oxygen mask. Seeing the stack of medical documents on the bedside table, she frantically snatched them up.

Her bloodshot eyes scanned the clinical pages. The words blurred together, and her hands began to shake.

She looked up at the young, serious doctor, her voice trembling so hard she could barely speak. "The report’s wrong, right?"

Nolan swallowed hard, his expression filled with deep sympathy. "The report’s correct."

"Impossible…" Tessa whispered, her knees instantly giving out beneath her. She slumped heavily to the cold hospital floor, hot tears streaming relentlessly down her face as she looked at her frail, unconscious mother breathing through an oxygen mask.

In a state of total despair, she clutched at Nolan's coat. "Please save my mom! I don’t have anything... She’s the only one I have. Please save her! I’m willing to pay any price..."

Nolan immediately leaned down, hoisting her up firmly by the waist. He gently guided her shaking body to a nearby chair before crouching down to perfectly meet her desperate, tear-filled gaze.

"Saving the sick is the duty of a doctor. I’ll do my best," he says gently, his voice full of solemn conviction. He pauses, his eyes locking onto hers with grave seriousness. "But your mother’s condition has been dragged on for too long and is too serious. You have to prepare yourself."