I nodded and kept calling Ruby.
Her phone was off.
"Mom, Ruby's phone is switched off. I can't get through."
"That heartless wretch!"
Silvia's roar echoed through the corridor.
There was nothing we could do. Without reaching Ruby, I couldn't get my money back.
We had no choice but to contact other relatives.
Fortunately, the surgery deposit wasn't astronomical—just a few ten thousand dollars. Between all the relatives scraping together what they could, we managed to cobble together enough.
Once my father-in-law was wheeled into the operating room, Silvia paced back and forth outside the doors, wearing a groove into the linoleum.
I tried to comfort her. Told her everything would be fine. That her husband had always been blessed with good fortune.
The surgery dragged on for six hours, stretching well past nightfall.
When the surgeon finally emerged, exhaustion carved into every line of his face, Silvia scrambled to her feet and rushed over, grabbing his arm.
"Doctor, how did my husband's surgery go?"
The surgeon's expression was grim. He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. The patient's condition had deteriorated too much from the delay. The surgery... was not successful."
The words hit Silvia like a physical blow.
She crumpled to the floor, her face slack with disbelief, tears streaming down her cheeks in an endless river.
I hurried to help her up, then turned to the surgeon. "Is my father-in-law in immediate danger?"
"He has perhaps half an hour left."
The surgeon paused, his voice heavy. "If there's anything you want to say to him... you should do it now."
He let out a long sigh, then left with the nurse trailing behind him.
Minutes later, they wheeled my father-in-law out of the operating room.
I guided Silvia over, her face ashen, her body moving like a puppet with cut strings.
My father-in-law lifted one trembling hand, his voice barely above a whisper. "Darling... don't be sad. This was my fate. I've made my peace with it."
The next second, Silvia collapsed onto her husband's chest, her sobs tearing through the hallway.
Back in the hospital room, the two of them talked for over ten minutes.
Though really, it was mostly my father-in-law speaking while Silvia wept.
Until he mentioned their daughter.
Only then did Silvia's tears stop.
"She—"
"Dad, Ruby's on her way right now."
I cut Silvia off before she could finish.
My father-in-law was hanging on by a thread. If I told him the truth—that his daughter wasn't coming, that she was out celebrating her ex-boyfriend's birthday instead—it would kill him on the spot.
Silvia froze. She turned to look at me.
Then fell silent.
As the minutes crawled by, my father-in-law's breathing grew shallower, fainter. His voice dwindled until I had to lean in close just to hear him.
I knew the end was near.
"Son... in-law..."
"I'm here."
I rushed to his side.
"From now on... I'm counting on you."
"Take care of... them. My wife... and daughter."
"I have to... go... now."
I clasped his hand tightly and nodded, the motion fierce. "Dad, I promise. I will."
"Thank you."
Those two words seemed to drain the last of his strength.
A few seconds later, his eyes drifted closed.
Then came Silvia's wail—raw, gutted, the sound of a heart being ripped in two.
That night, she stayed in the hospital room alone.
She wouldn't let anyone else in.
Not even me.
I could only watch through the small window in the door.
Silvia was washing her husband's body with painstaking care, gentle and thorough, before dressing him in clean, pressed clothes.
She seemed to be holding herself together. I allowed myself a small breath of relief.
Deep into the night, I dozed off in the chair outside the door.
A light touch on my shoulder startled me awake.
Silvia stood there, her eyes webbed with red, staring straight at me.
Before I could say a word, Silvia spoke.
"Come with me."
I followed her out of the hospital without question.
We went home.
Once inside, she disappeared into her room. I heard drawers opening, things being moved. When she emerged, she carried a worn wooden box in both hands.
She held it out to me. "Everything we own is in here. Some gold jewelry, the car, this apartment, and a plot of vacant land on the outskirts."
"Mom, what are you doing?"
My brow furrowed.
"None of it's worth much." Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "Sell it all. Pay back what we owe the relatives. Cover whatever's left of the surgery fees. If there's anything remaining, it's yours to do with as you please."
She paused, and something flickered across her face—too quick to name.
"As for my ungrateful daughter... if she ever comes to her senses, cuts ties with that Jacob James, and you want to stay married to her, that's your choice. But if you want a divorce?" She met my eyes. "I'll support that too."
Then she sat down and wrote out a gift agreement, every asset transferred to my name. She called Harold Bennett from next door to witness and notarize it.
When it was done, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Her calm was too complete. Too still. Like the surface of water just before it breaks.
I kept reassuring her. Telling her everything would be fine. That she still had me—her son-in-law. That I wasn't going anywhere.
She smiled faintly and rose from her chair. "Edgar, thank you. I'm a bit tired. I think I'll lie down."
I walked her to her bedroom door.
After everything she'd been through, rest made sense. Of course it did.
"Mom," I said as she stepped inside. "Don't overthink things."
"Mm. I know."
The door clicked shut.
I stood in the hallway, and the unease I'd been pushing down crawled up my spine. Something was wrong. Something was wrong—
THUD.
The sound came from outside. Heavy. Final. Like something had struck the ground with tremendous force.
Then the screaming started.
"Oh my God—someone jumped!"
