ECHOES OF SHATTERED SOUL: LOVE AND DECIEIT IN UNDERWORLD

ᴜɴʀᴀᴠᴇʟᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜱ

When I called the ambulance, I saw a broken vase. My heart pounded in my chest, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I was terrified that someone might have attacked her. Worse, a horrifying thought crossed my mind—it could have been my father. Panic set in as I rushed to my mother's side and began performing CPR. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I couldn't bear the thought that my mother might be dying in my arms. The moments stretched into an eternity until I finally heard the wail of the approaching ambulance.

As soon as the paramedics took over, I jumped into my car and followed them to the hospital. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, and I could barely see the road through my tears. I kept praying, pleading with whatever higher power might be listening to spare my mother's life.

After what felt like an eternity—an agonizing hour and a half—a doctor finally approached me. His face was grave, and my heart sank further. "Your mother is seriously injured and sick, but she's alive," he said. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by dread. I couldn't imagine life without her; she was the center of my world. I sat on a cold, hard bench, trying to steady my racing thoughts and calm my frayed nerves. The doctor's voice broke through my fog.

"Unfortunately, we have detected that your mother has Hansen's disease, and she needs immediate treatment. The treatment will be very expensive, costing over a million dollars. Are you willing to continue her treatment and cover the costs?"

My eyes widened in shock. Over a million dollars? The amount was staggering, impossible. But this was my mother, the woman who had given me everything. How could I let her die? The weight of the decision pressed down on me, but I knew there was only one choice.

"I agree," I said, my voice trembling. "I will do everything to raise that money. Can I see my mother?"

The doctor shook his head. "Unfortunately not. Your mother is in terrible condition and is too weak. She needs to rest. There's also another matter—we need to involve the police. Your mother mentioned that someone attacked her. The police will be here soon to speak with you. Please be honest with them. This is a serious matter."

The news hit me like a punch to the gut. Someone had attacked my mother. "Of course," I whispered, my mind racing. Who could have done this? And why?

As I waited for the police, I felt a mix of fear, anger, and determination. I had to stay strong for my mother. I couldn't let whoever did this go unpunished. And I couldn't let the enormous cost of her treatment deter me. My mother's life was worth any price.

The police arrived. I started explaining everything from my perspective. I mentioned a few people who could have done this. It was obvious that my mother could have knocked over the vase when she fainted, but the way it was broken seemed too suspicious. The police wanted me to go with them to show them the house so they could start the investigation, looking for signs of a break-in or fingerprints.

"Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm your mother?" one of the officers asked.

I nodded, hesitating for a moment. "There are a few people... but I don't want to falsely accuse anyone."

"Let's start with the house," the officer said gently. "We need to look for any signs of forced entry or anything out of the ordinary."

I agreed and left my mother in the care of the hospital, praying silently that she would be okay.

As we arrived at the house, I unlocked the door, and the police entered cautiously, their eyes scanning every detail. The broken vase still lay in pieces on the floor.

One of the officers knelt down to examine it. "This doesn't look like it just fell. The break pattern suggests it was thrown or hit with force."

Another officer was dusting for fingerprints around the area. "There are partial prints here. We'll have to run them through our database."

I led them through the rest of the house. "There's nothing else out of place," I said. "It's just the vase, and my mother... she was on the floor, unconscious."

The officer who examined the vase looked at me. "Do you have any idea what might have happened? Did your mother mention anything unusual before the incident?"

I shook my head. "She didn't say anything. I just found her like that. I thought maybe she had fainted and fallen, but now... I don't know."

Another officer came over, having finished examining the windows and doors. "No signs of forced entry. Whoever did this might have had a key or found another way in."

My mind raced, trying to piece together what might have happened. "There's a spare key under the mat," I admitted. "But only a few people know about it."

"We'll need a list of those people," the first officer said. "And we'll need to take you down to the station for a formal statement."

As we finished at the house and prepared to leave, one of the officers placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "We're going to do everything we can to find out what happened. Try to stay calm and focus on your mother. She needs you right now."

I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. "Thank you," I whispered.

As I got into the police car to head to the station, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread. I prayed that the investigation would bring answers quickly and that my mother would pull through. The stakes were higher than ever, and I knew I had to stay strong for her.

Back at the station, the process seemed endless. Questions about my mother, our relationship, her health, our family history, and potential enemies. Every detail mattered, and every answer I gave was scrutinized for clues.

"We'll analyze the fingerprints and check the security footage from nearby cameras," the detective assured me. "Go back to the hospital. Be with your mother. We'll update you as soon as we know more."

Exhausted but determined, I returned to the hospital, holding onto hope that we would soon have answers and that my mother would recover from this nightmare.