When my sister Amy claimed she was too broke to help with Mom’s emergency heart procedure, I emptied my savings and maxed out my credit card to cover her share. Twenty-four hours later, I watched her Instagram stories from a luxury resort in Cabo, and I realized this betrayal would tear our family apart in ways I never imagined. I’m 35, married to my husband Mark, and we have a seven-year-old son named Liam.
My sister, Amy, is 33, and honestly, we’ve never been what you’d call close. Different personalities, different priorities. But when it comes to family emergencies, I always believed we’d have each other’s backs.
You see, our mom is the kind of woman who makes you believe in goodness again. At 64, she’s this tiny powerhouse who worked as a nurse for 35 years, putting everyone else’s needs before her own. After Dad died when Amy and I were teenagers, Mom raised us completely alone.
She worked double shifts, drove us to every school event, and somehow still had energy to help us with homework at midnight. So, when she called me three weeks ago, her voice shaky and embarrassed, my heart just broke. “Jenna, honey, I’m at the hospital,” she said.
“I fainted in the kitchen this morning. The doctors want to do some tests.”
I dropped everything and raced to the ER. Mom looked so small in that hospital bed, apologizing for “causing trouble” when she could barely keep her eyes open.
The doctors explained that she had an irregular heartbeat that needed immediate attention. A minor procedure, they said, but necessary to prevent something much worse. “The good news is we caught it early,” Dr.
Martinez told us. “The procedure is routine, but we need to do it within the next few days.”
When the bill arrived, I felt my stomach flip. Even with insurance, the out-of-pocket cost was $6,000.
Mom’s face went white when she saw the number. “I can’t ask you girls to pay for this,” she whispered. “I’ll figure something out.”
But I knew what “figure something out” meant for Mom.
She’d skip meals, sell her jewelry, and maybe even take out a loan she couldn’t afford. No way was I letting that happen. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I told her.
“Amy and I will split it. That’s what family does.”
That night, I called Amy while making dinner. Mark was helping Liam with homework in the living room, and I could hear their voices mixing with the sound of sizzling chicken in the pan.
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