1 My mother was on her deathbed. I called my brother, who was on vacation in Egypt with his wife, and begged him to come back to see our mother one last time. By some miracle, she pulled through. But his wife, my sister-in-law, died in a tragic accident abroad. While sorting through her belongings, my brother found her diary. In it, she wrote about how my mother and I had alienated her, how she felt she had no place in our family. That was the last straw. My brother cut us out of his life, and for nine years, we didn't hear a word from him. Then, on the tenth anniversary of his wife's death, he set our house on fire, killing us all. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother was first admitted to the hospital. The first thing I did was rush to her side. Her condition was already critical, her life sustained only by the rhythmic pulse and hiss of a ventilator. The room was silent save for the sterile, incessant beeping of the machines. A knock at the door broke the quiet. The doctor beckoned my father and me into the hallway. “I need you to sign the critical condition notice,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “We’re at the final stage. Whether she makes it through is… well, it’s up to her now.” The pen trembled in my father’s hand, the tip hovering over the signature line, unable to make its mark. Seeing his anguish, I took charge. I gently took the pen from him and signed my name, Anna. The doctor took the clipboard. “If there are any other close family members,” he advised, his eyes full of sympathy, “you should call them. She may not last the night.” At those words, my father’s composure shattered. He broke down, sobbing like a child. After a long moment, he wiped his tears, his face etched with grief. “Anna,” he rasped, “call your brother. Tell Nicholas to come home.” My immediate instinct was to refuse. In my last life, I did exactly that. I called Nicholas, and he caught the first flight back from Egypt. The good news was that my mother, seeing him, rallied. She fought off the illness and made a full recovery. The bad news was that his wife, Rachel, left alone in a foreign country, was abducted. The next time we saw her, she was a body in a morgue. Nicholas never blamed us to our faces, but I knew he could never forgive us. The memory of the fire he set, the heat and the smoke, was a phantom limb I could still feel. I couldn’t go through that again. “Dad,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s halfway across the world. Even if we called him now, he’d never make it in time. I’m here. I can take care of everything. We don't need to bother him.” My father looked at me, confused. I was the one who always ran to my big brother for everything. Why the sudden change of heart? “Anna, I get that you want to step up, but if your brother doesn’t get to see your mother one last time, he’ll hate you for it!” But Dad, you don’t understand, I thought. If he comes back, his wife will die, and he’ll hate all of us. I couldn't voice those fears. Instead, I gripped his hand, my voice steady and urgent. “Dad, trust me. Mom is going to pull through. I know it.” He stared at me for a long time before finally putting his phone away. Just then, our family group chat buzzed. It was Nicholas. I opened the message, my heart sinking as I read. “I know you guys never liked Rachel, but we’ve been on this trip for days. Has it occurred to any of you to even ask how we are?” “Other people’s families are a safe haven. You all just treat me like I’m invisible, don’t you?” “Anna, say something. You fall off the face of the earth?” I didn't have to guess. Those were Rachel’s words, channeled through my brother. She had a major princess complex with a pauper's reality, always finding fault, always dreaming of a life she couldn't afford. But I couldn't say that now. With a sigh, I typed a reply while we waited for news about Mom. “Nicholas, Rachel, hope you made it safely! Have an amazing time. Things are just a little crazy at home right now, Mom and Dad are swamped.” That night, luck was on our side. Mom’s condition stabilized enough for surgery. “If she wakes up on her own after this,” the surgeon told us, “she’ll be out of the woods.” My father, overwhelmed with gratitude, shook the surgeon’s hand, repeating “thank you” over and over. As we waited outside the OR, a nurse from admissions approached us. “Excuse me, who is the family of Helen Miller?” My father and I raised our hands. “Her bill is overdue,” the nurse said, handing us a statement. “And this doesn't include the costs for the upcoming surgery.” My mother had been in the ICU for three days. There was one surgery when she was admitted, and now this was the second. All told, the medical bills had climbed to an astronomical forty-eight thousand dollars. 2 I was a recent graduate with barely any savings. My parents were hardworking, blue-collar folks their whole lives; the fifteen thousand they’d managed to put away was the fruit of a lifetime of labor. We pooled everything we had, called in every small favor, and still came up five thousand dollars short. With no other choice, I dialed my brother’s number. “Nicholas? It’s me. Listen, something’s happened at home. Could you possibly lend me five thousand dollars?” His response was immediate and scathing. “Have you no shame, Anna? Rachel and I are on a budget over here, pinching every penny, and you have the nerve to ask for five grand? Do you think money grows on trees?” “No, it’s not for me,” I stammered. “It’s for the family. It’s an emergency…” He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “An ‘emergency’? Let me guess, you got yourself into debt with some online loan shark, didn’t you? Rachel saw right through you from the start. She told me to set you straight, but I actually defended you. I thought you were better than that. Turns out…” I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off. “Listen to me. I’m having a great time with my wife, and I don’t want you ruining our mood. We don’t have a leech like you in our family, Anna!” He hung up. When I tried to call back, it went straight to voicemail. Desperate, I sent him a text. “Nicholas, this is seriously urgent. Please, just lend me the five thousand. I’ll write you an IOU, I promise.” His response was to block my number. Seeing my distress, my dad took his phone and called him himself. “Nicholas? Anna tried to borrow money from you. Why did you block her?” At the sound of my name, my brother’s voice turned ragged with irritation. “Anna, Anna, it’s always about Anna with you guys. You don’t give a damn about your son all the way out here, do you?” My dad tried to placate him. “Son, it’s not what you think. We’re at a downtown hospital. You know people here. Even if you can’t give us the money, maybe you could help us out, make a few calls?” But Nicholas had no intention of helping us. Or rather, of helping me. Hearing we were at the hospital only fueled his bitterness. “I remember when I was a kid with a stomach ache, begging to go to the doctor, and you told me to tough it out. But now little Anna needs a hospital, and you rush her right over? Other families favor the son; you two don't even care about your firstborn!” “Since you obviously don’t care about me, let Anna handle everything! Why are you even calling me?” It was like he’d been brainwashed, spouting nonsense without a second thought, refusing to listen to a word of explanation. The only person who could ever talk sense into him was Mom, and she was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. My dad looked lost, utterly bewildered by his son’s behavior. “Did we do something to upset him? Why is he acting like this, like he’s a different person?” One person came to my mind: my sister-in-law, Rachel. She’d always looked at my mother and me with suspicion, as if we were plotting against her. After she had a miscarriage, she treated us like enemies. None of us ever understood why. Maybe only she knew the real reason. “Dad, forget it,” I said, my voice heavy. “If Nicholas won’t help us, we’ll figure something else out.” We couldn't just give up. It was only money. I’d swallow my pride and call our relatives. If that failed, I’d beg the doctors for a payment plan. But when I called my uncle, the response I got was completely unexpected. “Anna? Oh, it’s you,” he said, his tone thick with disapproval. “Look, I know I’m old-fashioned, but for a young girl like you to get pregnant out of wedlock… and then to call your family asking for abortion money? Doesn’t that make you feel cheap? It just reeks of desperation. Don't you have any self-respect?” I was floored. “Uncle Mark, what are you talking about? Unwed pregnancy? Abortion? I’m calling to borrow money, yes, but it’s not for… I’m not…” He wouldn’t let me finish. “Your brother already gave us all a heads-up. He said you needed to be taught a lesson this time, to stop being so reckless. And look, I get it. You’re a young woman, you have certain… desires. But you need to protect yourself, kid.” He hung up, leaving me in stunned silence. I finally understood. Nicholas had anticipated I’d turn to our relatives and had systematically poisoned the well, cutting off my last resort. I made several more calls, but the answer was always the same. In that moment, I was hit with a profound, soul-crushing helplessness. I had truly hit rock bottom. 3 How could my own brother be so cruel? How much did he have to hate me to do this? My constant calls must have annoyed my uncle, because he showed up at the hospital, ready to lecture me in person. “Anna, you’re not a kid anymore, but you sure are reckless. You don't even know the first thing about men, and you go and get yourself pregnant? And you,” he said, turning to my dad, “you need to keep a better eye on her, not just dote on your precious son.” My uncle had always favored Nicholas. He didn’t like me, and he certainly didn’t like my father. He wasn’t here to help; he was here to gloat. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the billing office. “Uncle Mark, please, just lend me the five thousand dollars. I’m begging you. After this is over, you can yell at me all you want!” He shoved me away, and I stumbled, falling to the polished floor. “You think money just appears out of thin air? Five thousand dollars? You’ve completely lost your mind.” He was about to launch into another tirade when a sound from my mother’s room cut through the air. A long, piercing beep. The line on her heart monitor went flat.
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