BLOOD AND ASHES

The hum of the old Toyota Corolla filled the silence. It wasn’t a car made for comfort, just an average family’s lifeline — the kind you found on every street corner of the city. But inside, every sound was heavy: the soft wheeze of oxygen, the faint rattle of plastic tubes, and the worried rhythm of a father’s heartbeat.

Tobias Sheldon’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. His knuckles were pale, his eyes were shadowed by nights without sleep.

Every debt had started with his wife Elena’s treatment — chemotherapy, surgeries, oxygen.

He borrowed to keep her alive, but the loans became chains. El Pedro’s company squeezed him for every drop, and when the school’s salaries went unpaid, everyone blamed Tobias instead of the sickness that was killing his wife.

Each time he blinked, he saw numbers swimming — overdue bills, unpaid salaries of the teachers of his school, hospital receipts. Not because he was careless, but because he had borrowed from wolves who wore suits and ties.

They had bled him dry with “aid loans” while the world pointed fingers at him. Teachers whispered he was incompetent, parents cursed his name, but none of them saw the hands tightening the rope around his neck.

Beside him, his son sat quietly, an oxygen bag strapped under his nose. The slow rise and fall of the boy’s chest was a cruel reminder that even breathing was now a battle.

The phone on the dashboard buzzed. Tobias snatched it up, desperate, because he knew that voice would steady him.

“Elena,” he breathed, the corners of his mouth softening.

Her tone was weak but warm, a fragile melody that wrapped around him like a blanket. “Are you on the way?”

“Yes,” Tobias said, forcing brightness into his words. “We’ll be there soon. We bought you fruits — apples, oranges, bananas. Even those snacks you like. And I… I paid for part of the drugs the doctor prescribed. Not all of them, but enough for today.”

A low laugh floated through the line, weary but loving. “You always spend more than you should, Tobias. I told you not to—”

“Don’t talk about money now,” he cut in gently. His voice wavered, but he refused to let her hear the cracks. “Just save your strength.”

“Mom,” his son whispered, adjusting his mask. His voice was small, muffled, but filled with eagerness. “I can’t wait to see you. I’ll walk faster today… I promise.”

The line went silent for a moment, and Tobias’s heart clenched. He feared she had grown too weak to answer. But then her voice came back, trembling with love. “Just seeing you smile will be enough for me, my boy. My brave little man.”

Tobias blinked rapidly, his vision blurring. He couldn’t let his son see his tears. He cleared his throat quickly. “We’ll be at Saint Lucia Hospital in a few minutes. Wait for us.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Elena whispered, and the call ended with the faint echo of her cough.

The Corolla rolled into Saint Lucia Hospital’s car park thirty minutes later, its tired tires crunching against gravel.

Tobias killed the engine and leaned back for one deep breath. His chest ached as though iron bands were wrapped around his ribs. He reached for his phone — and a sudden vibration startled him.

A new message.

The screen glared back with words that froze his blood.

“Pay or watch your wife fall.”

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. His throat locked. His mind refused to process. What was this? Who would send such a thing?

A tiny tug on his sleeve snapped him back. “Dad?” Ethan’s voice was faint under the hiss of oxygen.

“I’m fine,” Tobias lied, shoving the phone into his pocket. His pulse raced, but he forced a steady smile. “Come on, let’s get you out.”

He hurried to the passenger side, opened the door, and helped Ethan down carefully. The boy’s legs trembled, thin under the weight of sickness. Tobias steadied him, one arm around his frail body, the other adjusting the oxygen bag.

“Easy… easy now,” Tobias murmured, his words trembling with love.

Once Ethan was standing, Tobias went to the boot. He pulled out the shopping bag — bright with fruit, packets of biscuits, and a small paper bag with the expensive medicines he had managed to buy. Food, drugs, hope — all carried like offerings. His shoulders sagged under the weight of reality.

At the hospital doors, he spotted Nurse Ruth — Ethan’s favorite nurse. She was one of the few who still treated them with kindness. Her face lit up with joy upon seeing the boy.

“Hey, Mr. Tobias. Ethan! How are you two?”

Ethan managed a smile, but Tobias leaned closer, whispering urgently. “Nurse Ruth, please… take care of my son. Just for a while.”

She nodded at once, guiding Ethan gently inside. “Go. He’ll be safe with me.”

Tobias didn’t waste another second. He moved into the stairwell, his bag pressing against his side.

His footsteps echoed against the cold concrete walls, uneven, rushed, desperate. Sweat slid down his temple as his breathing grew harsh.

He knew the hospital. He knew where Elena’s ward should be. But when he entered, his heart slammed to a stop.

The bed was empty.

The sheets were untouched, smooth as though no one had been there. His chest burned. His eyes darted left, right — searching, refusing the truth.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no…”

The message pulsed in his mind. Pay or watch your wife fall.

And then it hit him like lightning. The roof.

He turned and bolted. He didn’t care about the stares of orderlies or the whispers of patients. His boots hammered against the stairs as he ascended higher and higher, the stairwell swallowing the frantic rhythm of his legs.

“Please, God. Please, don’t let me be too late.”

The door to the roof loomed ahead. He shoved it open.

Cold wind slammed into him. The city stretched below, lights blinking against the dark. But his eyes saw only one thing.

Elena.

She stood on the ledge of the hospital roof, the thin fabric of her gown whipping in the wind.

Her hair, already thinned from chemotherapy, flew wildly around her pale face. She looked impossibly fragile, as if the wind itself might blow her away.

“Elena!” Tobias cried, dropping the bag of fruit. Apples scattered across the rooftop, rolling like fallen stars.

Her head turned slowly. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, unfocused. Her lips trembled as though she wanted to speak but she couldn’t.

She was drugged. Manipulated.

“Step down,” Tobias begged, his voice was cracking. “Please, Lena, don’t—”

Her knees wobbled. Her arms stretched slightly, as if she were being pulled forward by invisible hands.

“No, no, no…” Tobias stumbled forward, hands shaking, stretched out.

Then his phone buzzed again. He yanked it out.

Another message.

“One wrong move, she falls.”

Tobias froze. His heart tore apart inside his chest. His legs itched to run to her, but his instincts screamed that the threat was real. Someone was watching.

His grip on the phone trembled. His gaze darted between Elena, swaying on the edge, and the glowing screen.

His whole world balanced on that rooftop ledge.