Chapter 2 The words she left behind

No."

Aria pushed through the doorway.

Several members of staff stood around her grandmother's bed. Dr. Méndez was speaking to another doctor while a nurse adjusted the oxygen line.

"Abuela?"

Aria rushed to Elena's side and took her hand.

"I'm back. I finished the operation."

Her grandmother did not respond.

"Please wake up."

Dr. Méndez turned toward her.

"Doctor Montes..."

"What happened?"

"We noticed a deterioration in her condition. We tried to stabilize her."

"Why wasn't I called?"

"We were trying to manage the situation."

"You should have called me!"

Nobody answered.

Aria looked at the monitor. She understood what the readings meant, but she refused to accept what was happening.

"Do something," she pleaded.

"Aria, we're trying."

"Then keep trying!"

She turned back to her grandmother and held her hand tightly.

"Abuela, please open your eyes."

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then Elena's eyelids moved.

Aria leaned closer.

"That's it. Look at me."

Her grandmother opened her eyes slightly. They were tired, but when she recognized Aria, a faint smile appeared on her face.

"Mi niña," she whispered.

Aria began to cry.

"I'm here. I'm right here."

Elena tried to lift her hand, and Aria helped her.

"You shouldn't be talking," Aria said. "Just rest. You'll get better."

Her grandmother touched her cheek.

For a moment, Aria remembered being a little girl again, sitting in their small kitchen while Elena combed her hair before school. She remembered warm bread, her grandmother's humming, and the way Elena always waited at the window whenever Aria came home late.

She remembered her parents, too.

She remembered the accident and the long wait for them to return.

They never did.

Now she was afraid she would lose the only family she had left.

"Abuela, please don't leave me."

Elena's lips moved.

Aria leaned closer.

"Look after your heart, mi niña."

Aria shook her head.

"You can tell me that when you're better."

Her grandmother tried to smile.

Then she whispered something else.

"Don't let them..."

Her voice faded.

"Don't let them what?" Aria asked. "Abuela, please tell me."

Elena's fingers tightened weakly around hers.

"Take..."

She could not finish.

Her eyes slowly closed.

The doctors moved quickly, asking Aria to step away from the bed. She refused to release Elena's hand until a nurse gently guided her backward.

Aria stood against the wall, trembling.

She had explained death to families before. She had held the hands of people who begged her to do something more, even when there was nothing left to do.

Now she wanted someone to give her a different answer.

When Dr. Méndez finally turned toward her, she understood before he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Aria."

She stared at him.

"No."

"We did everything we could."

"No."

The word came out as a whisper.

Aria returned to the bed and straightened the blanket around her grandmother's shoulders.

"You promised me," she murmured.

There was no answer.

For a long time, she stood beside the bed, unable to move.

Then she noticed a folded piece of paper on the table beside Elena's belongings. She was certain it had not been there when she left.

She reached for it.

Her grandmother's name was written on the outside, and beneath it were four words in familiar handwriting.

For Aria, when she's ready.

Aria slipped the paper into her pocket.

A nurse approached her.

"Doctor Montes, the dean wants to speak with you."

Aria looked toward the corridor.

Dr. Salvatierra stood near the nurses' station, speaking on his phone. He glanced at her, nodded briefly, and continued his conversation.

He did not approach her.

He did not ask whether she needed anything.

He did not even look toward the room where her grandmother had died.

Aria watched him walk away.

She had spent her life believing that a hospital was a place where every human life mattered.

Now she wondered whether the people running this one had ever believed it at all.