Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 410

Tears swirling in her eyes, Rachel covered her face and, under the puzzled gazes of the onlookers, picked up the bank card from the ground before dashing upstairs, not stopping until she reached the eighth floor.

She found it nearly impossible to move because her legs felt like they were carrying a ton of bricks. She looked at the intensive care unit not far away, at a loss for what to do. How was she supposed to tell her mom that the money for the treatment was gone?

How was she supposed to scrape together $60,000 for the operation? What would happen to her mother if the surgery was not possible? She hadn't given her mom the good life she deserved. She hadn't ever taken her to see the flowers.

Kristin's call was like a slap in the face, a slap that hurt even more than the two that Izabella had given her.

She had betrayed her friend, indirectly causing someone else to lose something they loved. Now, it was her turn to bear the consequences of her actions.

All of her misdeeds, it turned out, were just begging for trouble.

Not only did she not receive the money for the treatment, but she also lost Izabella, who had been the nicest to her.

As soon as Dr. Zack stepped out of his office, he saw Rachel standing in the corridor, looking dazed.

"Rachel, have you paid for the operation?"

Rachel bit her lip and shook her head. "Dr. Zack, I lost the money for the operation. Can you give me a few days to gather the money?"

"Weren't you saying that you had the money for the operation? What happened?"

Dr. Zack watched as Rachel kept her head down, not saying a word. He guessed that something must have happened, but she wasn't saying anything. So he didn't want to pry. Rachel was a dutiful person, always taking care of her mom. The doctors and nurses all saw that.

If it was a minor operation, one that cost a couple of thousand dollars, he could help. But this was a $60,000 operation. Without money, it was basically a death sentence.

In this world, the biggest disease was poverty.

Dr. Zack patted her shoulder and said, "I can give you a week at most."

Rachel didn't know how to face her mom. Not only could her mom not have the operation, but she also had to deal with the fact that her daughter, whom she had always believed in, had lied and done something unforgivable.

Dr. Zack sighed and shook his head before leaving the corridor, leaving Rachel alone. She leaned against the cold wall, and even though the room temperature was 27 degrees, she felt cold. Rachel hugged her arms and cried silently for a long time, her eyes swelling up like walnuts and her legs going numb. She pushed herself off the wall and walked to the bathroom, washed her face, and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Without her glasses, everything was blurry. She couldn't even see her face clearly then.

No matter how much she splashed cold water on her face, it couldn't hide the redness and swelling of her eyes.

One look, and you could tell she had been crying.

Rachel didn't want to worry her mom. She tidied herself up and then returned to the hospital room.

Mrs. Lewis was already on her second bag of fluid. There was a TV in the room, but she never felt like watching. Only when Rachel was there, would she let her turn on the TV. When she had nothing to do, she would just sleep or stare out the window, lost in thought. Only when she was in a daze could she momentarily forget the pain. If she couldn't bear it, she would just grit her teeth and bear it, because she still had her daughter, and she didn't want her daughter to feel uneasy and scared because of her illness.

The window was tightly shut.

Mrs. Lewis looked out the window and heard a noise. She turned her head.

"Rachel, it's autumn now."

Rachel paused and listened to the noise outside the window.

The flowers outside the window were in full bloom, but the window was tightly shut, and she couldn't smell anything.

"Mom, every year at this time, we would be making honey cake together. Do you want some this year? After your operation, when you can eat again, I can make it for you, okay?"

"Of course, it's just that I can't drink the osmanthus wine anymore." When the osmanthus flowers were in bloom, Rachel's mother would brew and sell a sweet wine, filling the house with its aroma. There was a decade-old osmanthus tree in their yard. In the summer, it provided shade, and in the autumn, they could pick osmanthus flowers. Rachel often climbed the tree to pick flowers, and her mother would catch the flowers in a basket below, reminding her to be careful.

As if remembering the past, Rachel's mother couldn't help but smile, "When you were little, you were like a monkey, always climbing trees. I was always worried that you would fall. When you were little, I could catch you, but now that you've grown up, I can't."

Rachel tried to suppress the sadness in her heart. Her chest was so tight that it was unbearable. She placed her hand on her thigh, tightening it constantly, her shoulders trembling from the pressure. Rachel's mother looked at her, "Rachel?"

Rachel did not dare to lift her head and let her mother see her crying.

"You're crying." Rachel's mother's voice was full of tenderness, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm just scared, scared that something will happen to you and that I won't be able to eat your honey cake anymore."

"Silly girl, all honey cakes taste the same, and I've already taught you how to make them. I can't always be with you. One day, you'll have to learn to make honey cake by yourself."

"Mom, the surgery has been postponed to a week later."

"Did Dr. Zack say that?"

"Mm-hmm."

It seemed as if Rachel's mother could see through Rachel's lie, but she didn't ask any further, "That's okay, delaying the surgery can give me some time to prepare. Actually, I don't think my condition is that serious, and I don't need to have a kidney transplant. The surgery is too expensive. We would need a long time to pay off the cost."

"Mom, you don't have to worry about the money. I'll figure something out."

Rachel decided to raise money. She hired a caregiver, then lied to her mom, saying she had to go to work.

After leaving the hospital, Rachel dialed everyone's number in her phone: classmates, friends, colleagues, relatives, and neighbors, asking for money one by one.

She looked at Izabella's name in her contacts, hesitated for a moment, then scrolled to the next name.

When she chose to betray Izabella, she didn't think she could get her forgiveness, after all, she had made a mistake.

In her early twenties, Rachel's life plunged into darkness because of a bad decision. Many people hung up the phone as soon as they heard she was asking for money.

Rachel, with her mom's medical records in hand, humbly asked for money, not even caring about her dignity. She asked over a hundred contacts for money, running around from the north to the south of the city, begging from door to door.

When there were benefits to be had, people would lend you money. But when you ran into difficulties, help was hard to come by. It wasn't easy to borrow $60,000 for the operation, and she didn't even have the qualifications to borrow from the bank.

In just two short days, Rachel had lost a significant amount of weight. She considered selling her kidney on the black market to raise funds, but she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and had no clue where to start. She knew most online ads were about as trustworthy as a three-dollar bill, often scams that could even put your life in jeopardy.

So, she went to Dr. Zack and asked tentatively, "Dr. Zack, do you know anyone in need of a kidney transplant? I could be a match."

Dr. Zack's expression became grave in an instant.

"Are you considering selling your kidney?" he asked as he stood and confronted her.

"Dr. Zack, I know this is a tough pill for you to swallow, but I'm flat broke. I need to save my mom, and I can't raise enough for her surgery." She had already hit up everyone she knew for loans, but so far, she had only managed to scrape up 50 grand, a far cry from the 60 grand she needed.

"Please help me, I'm begging you." Rachel choked, her face wet with tears, her legs finally giving in from walking all over R City, and she collapsed.

She was ready to chuck it all, including her pride, her humanity, her self-respect, and her kindness, ready to throw everything to the wind, all to save her mom. "Rachel," a voice came from behind.

Rachel froze at the sound of her name, her heart pounding like a drum, her head throbbing. She slowly turned around as time seemed to stretch out agonizingly. She saw her mother standing in the doorway, smiling at her.

"Rachel, let's head home. I don't want to seek treatment anymore."

Mrs. Lewis had already changed into her clothes. Last night she got a call from a neighbor, telling her that Rachel was going door-to-door to raise money.

Upon hearing the news, Mrs. Lewis didn't call Rachel. Instead, she quietly packed her bags, had the nurse help her with the discharge procedures, and decided she no longer needed the medications.

The doctors and nurses tried to persuade her to continue her treatment, but Mrs. Lewis just smiled and said, "I won't let my daughter lose her future just because I'm ill."

That 60 grand for the surgery was a load too heavy to bear for ordinary folks like them. She didn't want her daughter to lose her pride and future for that money.

Mrs. Lewis walked slowly but with determination. She came up to Rachel, gently touched her head, then bent over in pain to lift Rachel's hand.

"Let's go home and bake a honey cake."

Rachel followed behind Mrs. Lewis, watching her mother's back. Her hand wasn't as warm as before, but every time she held Rachel's hand, it gave her endless strength and support.

That hand, which had once held her to sleep, helped her learn to walk, wiped her tears away, and carried her when she was sick.

Rachel tightly grasped Mrs. Lewis' hand. When they got to the hospital entrance, she suddenly stopped and said, "Mom, you can't be discharged. We need to treat your illness."

Mrs. Lewis turned around and looked at Rachel. In her eyes, Rachel was always her little girl. She reached out, hugged Rachel, and said, "Rachel, I know my condition. I remember I once told you that a person can be poor, but their spirit can't. I don't know how you raised the money for the surgery, and I don't know why it's gone now. Everyone has their own destiny. If that money was obtained through illicit means, I'd rather not be treated."

Her eyes, already swollen from crying, suddenly filled with tears again. She closed her eyes, lying in her mother's frail arms, sobbing quietly.

Hospitals are where life and death meet, and countless people come for treatment. It's a place where happiness and sadness intertwine. The passersby who heard the crying merely glanced and then looked away.

Crying didn't solve anything, but it was one of the easiest ways to vent.

Mrs. Lewis' heart ached. She gently stroked Rachel's hair and said, "Life is only a few decades long. I don't want you to do something irreversible and then feel guilty."

Mrs. Lewis saw Rachel's pain and blamed herself for not noticing Rachel's abnormal state earlier. She said, "In my eyes, you're the best. You'll always be my beloved Rachel."

"Mom, I want to save you. I don't want you to get hurt. We haven't had good days together yet."

"Am I still not alive? As long as you're alive, there's hope. Today will pass, and tomorrow will be a new day. As long as you're by my side, I will always look forward to the dawn of each day. Let's go home and bake a honey cake."

Due to chemotherapy, Mrs. Lewis had shaved her head and stood out in a crowd. Mrs. Lewis had endured many difficult years, but what woman does not appreciate beauty? She touched her head, and as they passed a shop, she saw a beautiful hat. She didn't recognize the brand, but the decor of the shop suggested that the hat must be expensive.

"Mom." Rachel saw Mrs. Lewis staring at the hat, "Do you want that hat?"

"Don't talk nonsense. That hat is too fancy, it won't suit me. Let's wait until we get home and I'll wear the hat you knitted for me."

The pair took a ride back to the countryside. Mrs. Lewis instructed Rachel to return the borrowed money and to express their gratitude to those who had helped them.

Mrs. Lewis' disease was incurable by drugs. The hospital had prescribed a ton of medications, a colorful assortment of pills that were daunting just to look at.

Mrs. Lewis looked at the osmanthus tree in the yard, full of blossoms, and asked Rachel to pick some flowers. Like in previous years, she made honey cakes and brewed osmanthus wine.

Mrs. Lewis was busy in the kitchen, with Rachel helping.

"Do you know how to make honey cake yet? Do you want me to teach you again?"

"I feel like I'll never get the hang of it."

"How can you be so hopeless?"

"Mom, you'd probably be happy right now if you hadn't given birth to me," Rachel said as she regarded her mother's face in the shadows." She felt like she was her mother's burden, and without her, her mom might have a new family and enough money for treatment.

Mrs. Lewis paused, gave her a serious look, and declared, "The greatest joy of my life is having you. Nothing is more important to me than you."

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