Anthony didn't hesitate. He scooped her up and bellowed for a doctor.
I lunged forward, grabbing for his arm. "Anthony, wait—"
He kicked me back. Hard.
"Get lost!" His face twisted with fury. "Look what you did to Jasmine! And you still want money? In your dreams!"
He bullied the staff into prioritizing her—unconscious, nothing more—and they rushed her into the ER, slamming the doors in my face.
Shut out. Abandoned.
I sprinted to the ICU and dropped to my knees before the attending physician.
"Please." My forehead hit the cold floor. "Save her first. I'll get the money."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sanchez." His voice was pained but firm. "ECMO requires prepayment. I can't override the system. Find the funds. Now."
I borrowed a nurse's phone. My hands shook so badly I could barely dial.
"Mom, Dad, please..."
They didn't ask questions. The transfer came instantly.
But the moment the notification pinged, the red light above the ICU went dark.
The doctor stepped out, peeling off his mask. He couldn't meet my eyes.
"I'm sorry. Your mother-in-law didn't make it."
My mind blanked. A hollow ringing filled my ears as the doors swung open and a gurney rolled out. A white sheet covered the body.
"Mom!"