TORN BETWEEN BILLIONAIRES; A NURSE'S DILEMMA

Elena Cruz woke at 4:30 in the morning to the soft buzz of her old phone. The sound was low, almost tired, as if the phone understood she had barely slept. She lay still for some minutes, staring at the cracked ceiling of her apartment. The room was dark, but she could see the faint shape of the curtains moving with the early wind. Her body felt heavy, like someone had placed a bag of stones on her chest during the night. She took a slow breath and pushed herself up.

Her bed was only a thin mattress on the floor, covered with a fading blue sheet. She folded the blanket neatly and stood, stretching her stiff back.

Elena walked into the kitchen area. It was barely big enough for one person. The single bulb above her hummed as she switched it on. She tried not to look at the stack of bills on the counter, but her eyes went there on their own. Electricity, water, rent, medical debt notices. They sat there like a reminder that life did not slow down for anyone.

She touched the top envelope. She already knew what it said. Another reminder about her father’s hospital debt. Another number she could not afford. She felt a small pinch in her chest, the same as every morning, but she pushed it aside. Worrying would not make the money appear.

She turned to the fridge. A small note held up a piece of paper. It was her younger brother Miguel’s college acceptance letter. She had read it so many times that she knew every line. Every time she looked at it, pride rose inside her, warm and bright. But right behind that pride came fear. How would she pay for his fees? His textbooks? His hostel? How would she make sure he did not feel the same struggle she carried every day?

Elena lifted the letter and read the first few lines again. Miguel Cruz. Accepted. Mechanical Engineering. It still felt unreal. She placed it back immediately.

She filled her old kettle with water and set it on the small hot plate. The metal made a dull sound as she placed it down. She opened a jar of instant coffee, the cheapest kind she could find. It was bitter and rough on the tongue, but it kept her awake during long shifts in the hospital.

While waiting for the water to boil, she walked to the bathroom. It was tiny and cold. The mirror had a long scratch across it. She looked at her reflection. Her face was pale from lack of sleep. Her hair, thick and dark, was tied in a messy bun that she would fix later. She touched the skin under her eyes, then let her hand fall. There was no point in complaining. She had work.

The kettle whistled, loud in the quiet apartment. She poured the water, stirred the coffee and took a slow sip. It was sharp and tasted a little