My exams are coming up.” “Buses run just fine.
You can go back for your exams. There’s a clinic out there too. I know people. They may be able to use someone with your training.” By that night, Elena was packing.
The thought of leaving gave her strength. Julie watched with thinly veiled satisfaction. “Don’t forget to write,” she said. “Leave the key on the table.” “I will.”
The next morning Elena stopped by the hospital to collect Mrs. Hayes’s things, and the two of them headed for the bus station. Buses to the small town ran regularly, so they were soon on their way.
Less than an hour later, familiar rolling countryside came into view. Elena took it in gratefully. Life moved differently here.
There was none of the city’s constant urgency. Mrs. Hayes’s house stood not far from the town square, in a modest neighborhood of detached homes and front gardens.
The slower pace felt like medicine. The house itself was sturdy and roomy.
There was even a carved wooden gazebo in the yard. “We’ll drink tea out there,” Mrs. Hayes said. “Bring blankets, put the kettle on.
You’ll like it. And you can study in peace.” “How are we handling rent?” Elena asked. “I’m nearly broke.”
“Rent?” Mrs. Hayes said. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been an angel to me. And I sleep better knowing there’s a medical professional in the house.”
“I’ll never forget your kindness.” Elena went to look around.
She was given the sunniest bedroom in the house. Then she checked the kitchen cabinets. “You rest,” she said. “I’ll run to the store. We’re out of everything.”
The market was just a block away. She bought groceries. Once she got back, she learned there was no running water in the house—water had to be carried in from the outdoor pump.
“This isn’t suburbia,” Mrs. Hayes said. “You’ll have to use your hands.” “I can learn.”
“You look pale, honey. Maybe we should have the local doctor take a look.” “No need. I can walk over myself.”
The day passed in chores. Elena made soup, fried cutlets, and scrubbed the floors until they shone.
By evening, her strength suddenly gave out. Her vision darkened, and she collapsed. Frightened, Mrs. Hayes called the local clinician, who insisted Elena be taken in.
At the county clinic, they ran bloodwork. The diagnosis came as a shock: early pregnancy. The fainting spell, the doctor said, had likely been triggered by severe stress and hormonal changes.
She was discharged the next morning. Elena asked for a referral for an abortion, but the doctor urged her not to make a rushed decision. Given her medical history, he warned, the procedure could leave her unable to have children in the future.
When she got back, she found Mrs. Hayes sitting in the yard. Elena dropped onto the bench beside her and burst into tears.
“What am I supposed to do now? I was ready to end the pregnancy.” “Don’t make that choice in a panic,” Mrs. Hayes said. “I made one like it when I was young, and I’ve regretted it all my life.
I ended up alone. No one to bring me a glass of water when I need one. Maybe God sent you here for a reason. Here.”
The older woman pressed a heavy ring into Elena’s hand. It was vintage silver with a large deep-red ruby. Elena recoiled.
“I can’t take something this valuable.” “You can, and you will. I’ve got no one to leave it to.”
The gate creaked, and a young woman stepped into the yard. She was a neighbor who had noticed a new face at the house. “Afternoon,” she said.
“Thought I’d come by and say hello.” “Hello, Diana,” Mrs. Hayes said. “How are your studies?” “Fine.
Still working through my economics classes.” “I’m Elena,” the younger woman said with a smile. “That ring is gorgeous.”
“Thank you. Mrs. Hayes gave it to me. Want some tea?” Elena went to fetch mugs. They sat outside for a long time.
The weather was warm, and little by little Elena’s nerves settled. That evening she spread out her study notes.
She decided not to make any immediate decisions about the pregnancy. Scrolling through the news on her phone, she suddenly found an article: the palliative wing had been saved. Elena ran to share the news.
But when she burst into Mrs. Hayes’s room, she found the older woman lying in an unnatural position on the bed. One look told Elena the truth. Mrs. Hayes was gone. Elena stood there in shock, then started to cry.
Once again, she was alone—no home of her own, no money, no plan. The next day she passed her final exams with top marks and then took on the burden of arranging the funeral. After the memorial, she sat in the now-empty house, numb with grief.
The door opened, and a self-assured woman stepped inside. “And who are you?” she asked. “I’ve been staying here.” “Not anymore.
Pack your things. Don’t get any ideas about this house. I’m the legal heir, and if you think about fighting me, don’t.” “I wasn’t planning to,” Elena said.
“What a life,” the woman said, looking around. “Lived all these years and didn’t leave much worth taking.” “How can you talk about her that way?
