C4 The Shattering Choice

Elena stormed inside, slamming the door against the peeling wall with each step. Her anger was palpable. Her coat, which was still wet from the night before, landed in a pile on the floor.

Clara sat in the faint light of a single lamp with her robe pulled closely over her emaciated body. Her piercing eyes sparkled, not with warmth but with thought. "Well?" she said. "What did he say?"

Elena turned to face her. "I'm not his pawn." That dude will never get me.

Clara sat back in her chair and smiled bitterly. "Never? You think pride would keep us alive? Pay the rent? "Buy Julian's medicine?"

"I'll find another way," Elena replied, pacing the length of the room. "Do more work, beg from charities, anything—"

Clara's laughing drowned out what she said. "Charity? Look at yourself. You're not a saint; you're a fallen heiress. No one will feel sorry for us.

Elena paused, trembling. "So you'd sell me to the devil?"

The look on her mother's face changed. "You talk about him like you have a choice." He has a lot of money. He has a lot of power. And he wants you. That is all that matters.

Elena's voice broke, and it was clear she was in distress. "You'd let me rot in his golden cage?"

Clara rose, her slender form becoming imposing. She got close, and her whisper burned. "Better chained than buried."

Elena's breath caught. The words slipped into her bones like frost.

Elena knelt down next to the sofa where Julian was cuddled up behind old blankets. His skin was as pale as the moon, and his chest rose and fell in shallow bursts.

"Lena," he said, attempting a smile. "You're crying again."

She held his hand tightly, trying to keep the tears from falling. "Don't worry about that. Just relax. "I promise I'll fix this."

He wanted to chuckle, but he ended up coughing instead. Elena rubbed his back and held him up. "Calm down, Julian." Take a breath. "Please breathe."

"You shouldn't promise what you can't deliver," he said loudly. "I don't want you to hurt yourself for me."

"You are all I have left," she screamed angrily, with tears streaming down her face. "I'll destroy the world before I let it take you."

Her words hardly escaped her lips before his coughing became forceful. His body shook, his tiny shoulders shook, and his face twisted in misery.

"Julian!" she screamed, terror in every word.

He held her arm tightly and gasped, his lips turning blue. The towel that was pushed against his mouth came away with red stains.

Her heart stopped.

His eyes slid back, and his small body fell into her arms as if he had lost all his strength.

Elena's cry became stuck in her throat as she held Julian's weak body in her arms. He didn't weigh much, and his arms and legs hung limply against her chest.

"Please stay with me," she begged, her voice breaking. "Julian, please don't go."

Elena lurched to the door, and Clara's high-pitched scream came behind. "Where are you headed?"

"To save him!" Elena yelled, yanked the door open, and fell into the cold night. She sprinted through the rain, and each step felt heavier than the last. Julian's faint breaths made her ear ring.

"Don't give up on me," she said, her tears mixing with the rain. "You're all I have." "Please, fight."

She pressed on through empty streets, pursuing the red cross of the hospital in the distance, even though her arms and legs hurt.

When she broke through the sliding doors, nurses rushed to her aid. "He's crashing," one of them yelled, dragging Julian away from her.

"No—" Elena tried to follow, but another nurse stopped her. "Let's get to work."

She shook as she reached out. "I have to be with him—"

But they took Julian away on a cart. His face was pallid, and machinery and wires covered his small body.

The doctor's dark gaze met hers for a brief moment. It was enough to take her breath away.

The fluorescent lights above buzzed, making everything look sickly. Elena sat stiffly in the plastic chair, her garments sticking to her skin because they were wet, and her fists were clutched till her knuckles turned white. The clean air smelt faintly of disinfectant and sneakers shuffling across linoleum.

Two nurses walked down the hallway, their words low yet clear in the quiet.

"His lungs are failing," one of them said. "He needs help right away—maybe even surgery or ventilation."

"And what if you don't have insurance?" The other person whispered back. "It will cost more than they will ever see in their lives."

Elena's heart sank. She pushed herself closer to the wall and listened even if she didn't want to.

"The boy doesn't have any time." He won't last the week without the right care.

The words cut through her, making her breath shallow and her body shake. She got up and stumbled over to the water cooler, holding on to it like it would hold her up.

"Something has to be there," she said quietly to herself. "Anyone—charities, clinics, anyone—"

Reality crushed her thoughts. The rent is late. A lot of bills. No money saved. No hope.

Her mother's voice echoed brutally in her mind: "Better chained than buried."

Elena put her forehead on the cool plaster and let her tears flow freely down her face. She couldn't see a way forward for the first time. Only walls closing in, hard and unyielding.

The nurses' words trailed behind her again. "Poor girl." She has no idea what's coming.

Elena's body got tense. They were correct. She had nothing else to contribute.

The phone in the waiting room rang, and its loud ring broke the silence like a knife. Elena jumped and wiped her face with the back of her palm. A nurse picked up the phone and then turned to her.

"To you."

She was confused when she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was clear, smooth, and unmistakable. Gregory Thorne.

He said, "You sound tired, my dear," in a voice that was almost comforting. "That will happen to a soul in a hospital."

Elena's grip got stronger. "How do you know where I am?"

Gregory laughed quietly. "I always know." Have the doctors told you how much it will cost to keep your brother alive?

Her breath caught. "Don't go near him."

"I'm not the threat," he said, his voice soft and smooth. "The clock is. His odds are worse with every hour you wait.

"You don't care about him." You want to hurt me.

"No," Gregory said softly, his voice like smoke wrapping around her. "I want to spare you the pain of acting like you still have choices."

Elena's throat clenched around her words, and rage choked her.

On the phone, his voice got lower and colder.

"Do you still think you have a choice?"