Chapter 2

Three weeks now.

I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing this haggard face. Sunken eyes, cracked lips, hair messy like straw. But I still forced a smile, telling the woman in the mirror: "I can do this. I have to do this."

Elena was still sleeping in bed, curled up under the worn blanket. This basement had only one small window, and the light filtering through was always gray and dim. Damp, cold, but this was all we could afford.

I tiptoed toward the small box containing the pills. When I opened it, my heart instantly plummeted.

Three pills. Elena's epilepsy medication was down to three pills.

Three pills meant three days, and after three days...

"Sister?" Elena's voice drifted from the bed, light as a feather.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart, it's still early." I quickly closed the pill box and turned to smile at her. "We'll have new students coming today. Our tutoring center is opening."

Elena nodded and closed her eyes again. She'd been talking less and less these past few days. I knew what she was worried about. Smart little girl could always sense my anxiety.

I grabbed the stack of handwritten flyers and headed for the door. I'd spent three hours writing these last night, my hand was cramped.

"Community Tutoring Center - Help Your Children Improve Their Grades, Reasonable Rates."

The street already had early risers. People in the South End got up early because most had to catch early buses to downtown for work. I started going door to door, stuffing flyers into mailboxes.

"Excuse me, I'm Stella, just moved in, and I want to start a small tutoring center..."

Some people shut their doors before I could finish. Others politely took the flyers but their eyes were full of doubt.

Finally, a single mother with two children stopped.

"You said only thirty dollars a week?" She studied the flyer carefully.

"Yes, math, English, science - all included."

"My kids' grades are really bad..." She bit her lip, thinking. "Okay, let's try it. When do you start?"

"Today at three PM."

When I got back to the basement, Elena was awake, sitting on the worn sofa eating oatmeal.

"How many students are coming?" she asked, with a hint of excitement in her eyes.

"Two for now, but there'll be more." I sat beside her and touched her forehead. "How are you feeling today?"

"Okay." She paused, then said timidly: "Sister, my medicine..."

My heart sank again, but I still managed a smile: "Don't worry, I'll figure something out. Let's just focus on getting through today, okay?"

At three PM, that single mother Maria actually showed up with her two children. Eight-year-old Carlos and ten-year-old Sofia, both shy but polite kids.

"This is our classroom." I pointed to the basement space with a few tables set up. It was indeed crude, but I tried to sound as professional as possible.

Elena sat in the corner, quietly reading a book. She'd already taken her medicine for the day and seemed to be in good spirits.

"Alright, let's start with math..."

Just as I was writing examples on the blackboard, Elena suddenly let out a strange moan.

I turned to see her eyes rolling back, her body beginning to convulse violently.

"Elena!"

She slid off the chair, hitting the ground hard, her head striking the table corner. The children screamed and backed away.

"Elena! Elena!" I rushed over and held her. Her body was convulsing like she'd been electrocuted, foam coming from her mouth, her tongue bitten and bleeding, blood trickling down the corner of her mouth.

"Call an ambulance!" Maria shouted, already dialing 911.

I held Elena, tears streaming down my face.

"They say it'll take at least forty-five minutes!" Maria hung up, panic in her voice. "Traffic jam on the main road, and we're low priority!"

Forty-five minutes. Elena could die in forty-five minutes.

I used all my strength to lift Elena up. Though she was small, with her whole body convulsing, I could barely hold her.

"Let me help!" Maria rushed over to support Elena's legs.

We stumbled out of the basement, running toward the clinic six blocks away. Elena's blood dripped on the ground, on my clothes, my heart shattered into pieces.

The clinic was packed with people, the air thick with disinfectant and despair. We waited two hours before seeing a doctor.

Elena's convulsions had stopped, but she looked terribly weak. The doctor was a tired middle-aged man, his eyes behind glasses showing professional coldness mixed with sympathy.

"She needs to switch to new medication immediately, but this drug is expensive, at least 3,000 dollars per month." He said it straight.

"Doctor, please, are there any cheaper alternatives?" I grabbed his white coat like grasping the last straw.

"I can prescribe some basic medication, but the effects are limited. Long-term, she needs neurosurgery."

"How much would the surgery cost?"

"At least a hundred thousand dollars."

A hundred thousand dollars. I had less than eight hundred dollars in my bank account.

When we got home it was already evening. Elena walked slowly with my support, her face pale as paper.

"Sorry, sister, I scared away your students."

"Don't be silly, it's not your fault." I hugged her tightly. "It's never your fault."

We'd just reached our door when we saw a group of neighbors gathered in front of the basement entrance. Maria was there, along with Mrs. Sterling from upstairs, Joe the corner store owner, and even some people I didn't recognize at all.

"Honey, we heard about Elena's condition." Mrs. Sterling approached, holding an envelope. "We collected 680 dollars, it's not much but it's our hearts."

My throat tightened, and I blinked hard, but couldn't stop the warmth that blurred my vision. Six hundred eighty dollars - for these people living in the projects, that might be several days' wages.

"We're all ordinary folks, can't help too much." Joe rubbed his hands, somewhat embarrassed. "But we wanted you to know, you're not alone."

"Thank you, really thank you all." I choked up, my voice breaking. "I... I don't know how to repay you."

"Don't say that, neighbors should help each other." Maria patted my shoulder. "Will you continue tutoring tomorrow? My kids still want to come."

That night, after Elena fell asleep, I sat by the window counting those crumpled bills. Six hundred eighty dollars, plus my eight hundred, totaled fourteen hundred eighty dollars. Enough to buy basic medication for a month, but still ninety-eight thousand five hundred twenty dollars short of surgery costs.

What I didn't know was that in a black sedan across the street, a man was watching my window through binoculars.

"Boss, Miss Elena is seriously ill, Mrs. Stella is barely holding on." He spoke into his phone.

From the other end came a cold voice, but if you listened carefully, you could detect a barely perceptible tremor: "Continue surveillance, don't expose yourself."

Enzo hung up the phone, staring at the photo on his phone screen of me crying while holding Elena, his fingers trembling.