Blurb：
Emily’s mother faces every parent’s worst nightmare when her daughter is critically injured in a car accident. As doctors rush to save Emily with an artificial heart surgery, the desperate mother discovers her husband Mark has secretly emptied their joint savings account. When confronted, Mark coldly responds that the money is “invested” and shockingly questions what Emily’s survival matters. Despite begging and scrambling for funds, the mother can only afford inferior medical equipment while Mark spends extravagantly on fireworks for his ex-girlfriend’s celebration. Witness the heartbreaking moment when a young nurse reveals the cruel irony: “A million dollar… gone up in sparks… and little Emily only needed was a few thousand more to live.” This emotional thriller explores betrayal, maternal love, and the devastating consequences of financial deception in a medical crisis.
Content：
My ten-year-old daughter, Emily, was fighting for her life after a car accident, and I was desperately trying to gather the funds for her emergency surgery.
My husband, Mark, was supposedly away on a business trip. But when I went to pay the hospital, I discovered he had secretly drained our entire joint savings account.
I called him, my voice shaking with a fury I had never known.
“I told you, it’s invested! I can’t just pull it now. Are you stupid or are you just not listening?” he snapped.
Then came the words that shattered my soul, “Besides, even if she did die, what’s she got to do with you anyway?”
I begged everyone I knew for help. I scraped together every penny I could, but it still wasn’t enough.
In the end, Emily died in the hospital because we could only afford a cheaper, inferior artificial heart.
At that exact moment, a massive fireworks display—one that Mark had paid for to celebrate his ex-girlfriend’s birthday—lit up the sky right near the hospital.
A young nurse who’d fought so hard to save Emily wiped her tears and whispered bitterly,
“A million dollar… gone up in sparks… and little Emily only needed was a few thousand more to live.”
……
“Doctor, please, you have to check again. There must be some mistake.”
The billing clerk shook her head sympathetically and swiped my debit card once more time.
“I’m sorry. It’s still declined. There’s only a few hundred dollars in there!”
It was impossible. Tears instantly welled up in my eyes.
This was my personal savings account, the one I never touched. I put money into it every single month.
By my calculations, it should have held nearly a hundred thousand dollars.
Seeing my disbelief, the clerk turned the screen towards me.
The numbers on display made my vision darken and swim.
It was true. Only a few hundred dollars remained, a cruel mockery.
But this was no time for shock.
Stunned, I stumbled back to the preparation area outside the ER.
The lead surgeon was even more frantic than I was.
“Where’s the payment confirmation? I need it now… so I’ll have the nurses release the artificial heart and surgical equipment!”
“Come on, we don’t have time for delays!”
She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing.
“You haven’t paid yet, have you?”
It was only then that the full weight of my helplessness crashed down on me.
I dropped to my knees, trembling, begging, “Doctor, please save my daughter first. I’ll get the money, I swear!”
The doctor frowned, her voice sharp with urgency, “You’re only telling me this now? You said payment was ready!”
“Don’t you understand? The specialized artificial heart isn’t here! Our partner hospital requires full payment before they’ll release it!”
“You… you have to understand… I…”
I knocked my forehead against the cold floor, the sound echoing down the sterile hallway.
“Please, just save her! I’ll find the money immediately—something must have gone wrong with the account.”
The doctor let out a heavy, weary sigh.
“I can wait. But can your daughter?”
“Her condition is deteriorating by the minute. Her heart is already severely damaged.”
“We’ve done all we can to stabilize her, but that’s all they are – temporary!”
My emotions were a storm, but I knew she was right.
When Emily was first rushed in after the crash, the doctors’ faces looked grim. They made me sign risk waivers.
They clearly told me the surgery was high-risk.
But if they used the imported artificial heart and the latest implant technology, Emily had a real chance of survival.
In short, it was a race against death, and the entry fee was money.
I had felt a surge of desperate hope then, crying out:
“Money! Don’t worry about the money. Any amount, whatever it costs!”
“I don’t care about anything else —use my entire savings!”
“Please, use the best heart, the best equipment. I’m begging you, please!”
My words had sent the medical team into action.
They were all poised, waiting for the green light on the equipment.
And then I, the desperate mother, had doused their efforts with the cold reality of an empty bank account.
But they were professionals. Seeing my ashen face, they knew anger was pointless.
“Alright,” the doctor said, her voice softening a fraction,“You have twenty minutes… go find what you can.”
“If you can’t get enough, we’ll have to use the hospital’s backup artificial heart and generic meds…”
“The outcome… won’t be as good. You need to be prepared for that.”
“And if we wait any longer without operating… your daughter…”
I trembled, feeling completely paralyzed.
Didn’t I understand the doctor’s meaning?
Without the money for the best chance, we’d be relying on a miracle.
Twenty minutes. I repeated it like a mantra, forcing my shaking, weak legs to move.
Money. I needed money.
My first call was to my husband, Mark.
Actually, I’d already called him right after Emily’s accident.
He hadn’t answered. I’d figured he was in a meeting, just like he’d said he would be on his “business trip.”
I’d just texted, “Mark, Emily’s been in a car accident. Come home now.”
I’d been too frantic running around the hospital, to call again.
Now, desperate for answers about the money, I called again.
The phone rang and rang. No answer.
Watching the wall clock, each tick of the second hand felt like a slice through my nerves.
Panic was eating me alive. I bit my knuckle, trying to stifle the sobs building in my throat.
“Pick up the phone, Mark! Emily’s life depends on it!”
It seemed some cruel fate heard my plea, only to slap me down.
“I’m in a meeting. Stop bothering me.” Click.
I called back instantly. It went straight to voicemail. Phone off.
I wanted to scream.
That account held my life savings. Only Mark and I knew the password.
We’d planned to use it for a house, for Emily’s college, for our future.
I deposited money into it every month without fail.
I didn’t spend much on myself – no luxury bags, no fancy vacations.
Most of my money went to our home and to Emily.
The rest, usually around seven or eight thousand a month, went into that account. Bonuses, extra income – all of it.
Years of saving, for what I thought was security.
And now it was gone. My only hope was that Mark had moved it somewhere else.
If he could just transfer it back, Emily could still be saved.
But his phone was off.
I took deep, ragged breaths, forcing myself to think. Emily was on that table table, fighting for her life.
I couldn’t let my emotions destroy her only chance.
That door was closed for now. I had to find another way.
I split my efforts. I told my parents to beg relatives and friends for loans, my voice cracking, “Whatever it takes, borrow whatever you can, get it transferred within fifteen minutes!”
I called my friends, my classmates, my boss, my colleagues.
A close friend asked, puzzled, “Catherine, I know you earn well. Weren’t you saving for a house?”
I choked up.
The account was empty, and I had no clue why.
Stammering, I replied, “The money… it’s tied up. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can access it.”
“Okay, sweetie, don’t worry. Use it for the emergency…” she said gently.
Three hundred here, five hundred there.
My good reputation paid off, friends and colleagues scraped together about fifty thousand dollars.
They promised to try and get more, hoping it would be in time.
Tears welled as I silently thanked them, barely stopping myself from kneeling.
Meanwhile, my parents hit a wall with relatives. Their voices were frayed with anxiety and shame over the phone.
“Sorry, honey… only a few close ones lent maybe ten thousand total…”
“They all said you earn so well in the city, why are you asking poor relatives for money?”
“Last time you visited, they said you were dressed like a queen.”
As my parents cursed their stinginess, I cut in.
“Just keep asking! Whatever you can get!”
“I’ll take Emily to thank them on my knees if I have to!”
My parents’voices broke. “We… we already did kneel.”
My heart seized.. Tears finally fell.
I hung up quickly, sucking in a breath.
I raced back to billing and transferred what I had.
“This is only seventy thousand? That’s nowhere near enough!” the clerk said.
I pleaded, “Just start with the best equipment…”
She shook her head. According to the surgeon’s estimate, we were still short by nearly thirty thousand..
Just then, my phone rang.
Seeing the name, I snatched it up.
“Mark! Where are you?”
“Emily’s in the hospital…”
But the voice that answered was pure ice.
“Catherine Johnson! I said I’m in a meeting! Are you sending people to harass me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
I struggled to control my breathing when I heard a familiar woman’s voice in the background.
“Mark, honey, where did you put my towel?”
My heart plummeted. A terrible suspicion bloomed in my chest.
“Mark, who are you with?” I demanded.
A muffled sound, half a second of silence, then his forced calm, “Who else? Colleagues, after the meeting. We’re at the spa.”
“Can’t you trust me?!”
It was the middle of a sweltering summer day. The spa? In this heat?
“You wouldn’t be with…” I started.
The woman’s voice, soft and smug, cut in, “Yes, we’re just relaxing at the spa.”
Blood roared in my ears. My suspicion was true.
But I glanced towards the ER doors, I swallowed my fury.
“Mark, I’m not accusing you… I just have one question.”
“Where’s the money? Our money?”
I heard him exhale, almost a sigh of relief, “Money? What money?”
I forced myself to stay calm. “The account! The one for our future! The hundred thousand dollars! Did you take it?”
“Can you transfer it back right now?!”
“Emily needs—”
Before I could finish, Mark’s voice turned sharp and dismissive.
“Money?! You’re calling me in the middle of the day for money?!”
“Catherine, do you have any idea how paranoid you sound?!”
“Stop bothering me. I’ll deal with your hysterics when I get home.” He tried to hang up.
“No! Don’t hang up!” I screamed, my composure shattering, “The money! OUR money! That was my savings, everything I put away!!”
“I invested it! It’s just money, for God’s sake! I never knew you were so materialistic!”
“Listen to yourself! When did you become so unstable?”
His voice was ice-cold, dripping with scorn.
I stood frozen.
Invested? Whether that was true or not, he’d drained our entire shared account without a word.
But this wasn’t the time for that argument. I fought for control, sucking in a sharp breath..
“Just get it back!! Emily needs surgery! Now!”
Mark exploded. “Get it back?! Catherine, what are you implying?”
“Are you seriously starting a fight over money?! After everything I spent on you when we got married…”
I was screaming, my throat raw,
“That money is for Emily’s life! Can’t you understand?!”
Mark spat out two cold, hard words, “No. Way.”
The line went dead.
I called back. Straight to voicemail. He’d turned off his phone.
I wanted to hurl my phone against the wall. Instead, I dug my nails into my thigh. Don’t lose it. Emily needs you.
The cold glow of the operating room lights seemed to mock me.
No doubt now. His flustered reaction confirmed the money was gone because of him.
I was racing death itself.
I scrolled through my contacts, found a number for one of his colleagues.
“Where is the company conference being held?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Conference? We rarely have off-sites this week. Today’s actually a company-wide day off.… didn’t Mark tell you?”
I hung up, numb.
That familiar female voice… a terrible suspicion took shape.
I frantically checked Mark’s social media.
His latest post: “Business trip vibes.” The background was a sleek hotel room.
His colleague said no conference… so who took that shirtless bathroom mirror selfie then?
My head throbbed. I zoomed in on the photo.
Reflected in the corner of the mirror was a woman’s hand. On her wrist was an distinctive, expensive-looking jade bangle. A limited edition piece.
My world shattered. I’d seen that bangle in his drawer months ago. I thought it was a surprise for my birthday.
The surprise had just blown up in my face.
Struggling for composure, I dialed the woman’s number.
Yes, I knew her. I remembered the voice now.
Sarah Miller. Mark’s college sweetheart, his “one that got away.” She’d dumped him for a richer guy years ago, leaving him shattered.
I was the one who picked up the pieces. I poured everything into helping him heal.
We built a life. We had our precious Emily.
I gave everything to create a warm, loving home for him and our daughter.
Juggling work, then rushing home to handle everything. I told myself his job was high-pressure, my extra exhaustion was a fair trade.
I never imagined it would end like this.
She answered. A heavy silence hung between us.
I choked down rage. “I don’t care what’s going on between you two.”
“Make Mark return my money. Right now.”
“My daughter is in surgery. She needs it to live!”
“Whether you live or die is none of my concern!”
She cleared her throat, defensive, “Catherine… that’s low blow, using your daughter’s emergency to try and get money…”
I roared, “If my daughter dies because of this, I will make you pay!”
I heard Mark scoff in the background.
“Money, money, money. Is that all you ever think about?”
“Now she’s using Emily for her little scams.”
“I must have been a fool.”
“Go on, tell her, Sarah! Yeah, I took the money. So what?!”
“Feeling cheated? Trying to claw some back?”
My eyes widened.
He wasn’t even hiding it anymore.
Sarah’s voice dripped with malice. “Hear that, Catherine? Mark can’t stand a greedy woman.”
A nurse tapped my shoulder urgently, “Ma’am? Do you have the funds? We need to prepare!”
I begged the nurse, “Please, just a few more minutes, I’m trying!”
Mark heard her. “Oh, bravo, Catherine! You’re really putting on a show now?”
“Why not say your parents dropped dead too? Cursing my own daughter now?”
“I knew it! You were never fit to be Emily’s mother!”
“Fine! We’re done I’ll file for divorce when I get back. Count on it.”
I tried to speak, but Mark was already urging Sarah to hang up.
“Come on, sweetheart. Your surprise is waiting on the rooftop. Let’s go.”
Click. Then her phone also switched off.
I looked at the clock. Ten minutes left.
I wanted to call the police, to chase down my stolen life savings.
Then my phone rang again. An unknown number…
“Ms. Johnson? It’s about your parents!”
I don’t know how a person finally breaks.
The police officer’s call nearly shattered what was left of my frayed nerves. I fought back the bile rising in my throat.
Officer, “Your parents were assaulted while trying to secure a loan!”
My voice was a shaky whisper,“Are they okay?!”
“I’m afraid not, ma’am.”
“They attempted to borrow from an unlicensed lender. It’s a dangerous, illegal operation.”
My head spun, “Loan sharks? My parents would never…”
The officer’s tone was grim,“They were desperate. They were tricked. The lenders took the deed to their house as collateral.”
“A dispute broke out. It turned violent.”
“To be blunt, a group of men assaulted your elderly parents. They’re badly hurt.”
My hands and feet went numb with a cold dread.
From the officer’s clinical report, I saw it, my aging mom and dad, hearts pounding, knocking on a dangerous stranger’s door.
Offering the only thing they had left—the roof over their heads—to a pack of wolves.
They barely know how to use a smartphone. How could they possibly navigate this?
My simple, trusting parents, beaten and broken by predators.
All because I begged them, “Get the money. Save Emily. Do whatever you have to!”
A crushing weight settled on my chest, making it hard to draw breathe.
“How bad are they? What did the doctor say?” I forced out.
The officer sighed. “That’s the reason for my call. They are refusing transport to the hospital. Didn’t want me to tell you…”
“Your parents… broken arms, possible legs, a severe concussion, and they’ve lost a lot of blood loss. Their condition is… very serious.”
“They said you need the money right now. They said they can’t afford treatment.”
“They couldn’t call you themselves. They asked me to check… did you get the money?”
“……”
I looked at my phone screen, blurred by tears.
“$8,732.56.”
Loose change and small bills.
It felt like a fist was squeezing my heart, tighter and tighter.
I clenched my own fists, pounding them against my chest.
I gasped, the air refusing to fill my lungs.
“Please… you have to get them to the hospital!”
“I’ll… I’ll find a way to get the money!”
“I can’t come back right now… I’m in the city.”
My voice broke on the words . Get the money?Where? How?
I ended the call and immediately dialed the bank’s emergency line.
“A large sum was transferred out of my joint account without authorization. Can it you reverse it?”
The answer was a polite, devastating no—not without an investigation,not quickly.
I watched the wall clock. Each minute ticked like a knife slicing my throat. a silent screaming agony.
Time was bleeding away.
I had called everyone I could think of.
My parents’ horrific ordeal gave me a terrible, shameful idea.
I maxed out every credit card. I filled out applications for every quick-cash loan app I could find on my phone.
A few thousand here, another ten there. Scraped together maybe fifty thousand more.
But the total? Still only around sixty thousand dollars.
The deadline arrived. The doctors’ movements became a flurry of urgent, grim purpose.
Despair finally swallowed me. I slid down the wall beside the ER door, peering through the small window.
Emily lay so still on the gurney, a tiny figure lost in a tangle of tubes. Her sweet face, pale and lifeless.
She seemed to call to me.
“Mommy… save me.”
“Mommy… it hurts so much!”
I gritted my teeth. A wild, desperate thought seized me.
“Doctor!” My voice was a raw scrape. “How much… for my blood? I’ll sell my blood?”
The doctor frowned, shaking her head with profound sadness. “It doesn’t work like that, Ms. Johnson. And it’s illegal. Please, don’t think that way.”
Defeated, I whispered the unthinkable, “What about… organs? Selling a kidney? Part of my liver?”
“What are you saying?”
“Have you lost your mind?!”
I dropped to my knees before her.
“Doctor… take my heart! Give it to Emily! Please!”
The doctor’s eyes glistened. Even in her world of loss, my desperation was a shocking sight.
I knew I looked terrible. She helped me up. I was just trying to find one more way to claw together a few more dollars.
But I also knew, even selling a piece of myself took time.
And time was the one thing I had completely run out of.
The doctor was already directing the team to prepare for the alternative surgery.
The cold steel doors swung shut in my face.
I collapsed onto the hallway floor, burying my head in my knees.
I hated my own powerlessness.
Why didn’t I make more money?
Why wasn’t I stronger?
Then my Emily wouldn’t be getting the most basic artificial heart, the generic medicines.
And my parents back home, hurt because of my desperate instructions… and I was here, utterly helpless.
I curled into a ball in the corner like a wounded animal.
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