Francesca who was ever observant, notices the weariness etched in her mother's eyes.
"Did you manage any rest at work?" Francesca inquired, her voice laced with concern.
"Very little," Zita admitted, "but I don't mind. It is heartening to witness such joy and celebration."
Francesca nodded and felt relieved that her mother found comfort to her hard work. "I finished the laundry and tidied up. Mrs. Hawthorne stopped by with fresh bread."
"That was kind of her," Zita said with meher eyes brightening. "Mrs. Hawthorne always looks out for us."
"Indeed," Francesca agreed. "She also gave me some advice on mending clothes. I believe I am improving."
Zita smiled, gently squeezing Francesca's hand. "You are doing wonderfully, Francesca. I am immensely proud of you."
Francesca blushed. "Thank you, Mother. I just want to ease your burdens."
"You do more than enough," Zita assured her. "I am grateful every day for you. How was your day, dear?"
"It was good. Busy, but I like to stay occupied," Francesca replied with a smile. "I had some time to think as well."
"Oh?" Zita raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"About the future," Francesca said softly. "And how much you mean to me."
Zita's eyes shimmered with gratitude. "You mean the world to me, my dear."
As the two finished their meal, Francesca began clearing the table and stacking the dishes neatly on the table. Zita joined her and helped carry the empty plates to the sink. As she lifted the dirty dishes, Zita suddenly gasped and faltered.
"Mother!" Francesca cried, rushing to her side as the plates crashed to the floor. She immediately guided her mother to a chair as her voice trembled. "What is wrong? Are you alright?"
Zita's face had drained of color and her breathing becomes shallow. "I... I do not know," she whispered, wincing.
Francesca's heart raced. "Just breathe, Mother. I will get some help. Stay with me."
Zita nodded weakly while her eyes were filled with worry. Francesca ran to the door, calling for help into the night. Spotting a familiar neighbor's candle lit window, she rushed to it, knocking urgently onto the door.
As the door creaked open, it revealed Mr. Jenkins with his face creased out of concern seeing Francesca all worked up. "Francesca, what is wrong?"
"It's my mother," Francesca blurted out. "She's in pain. I do not know what to do."
Mr. Jenkins promptly grabbed his coat and lantern without hesitation. "Take me to her," he said firmly.
Francesca led the way back to their small home while her heart pounded with fear. As they arrived inside, Zita saw then and managed a weak smile at Mr. Jenkins. "Thank you for coming," she whispered.
Mr. Jenkins knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What happened?" he asked, his tone calm and reassuring.
"I... suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest. I could... hardly breathe," Zita explained, struggling through the pain.
Mr. Jenkins nodded with his brow furrowed in worry. "We need to get you to a doctor," he said. "Francesca, help me get your mother ready."
They carefully assisted Zita to her feet and supported her as they made their way through the night. Upon reaching the clinic, the doctor, seeing the emergency, quickly assisted them inside to assess Zita's condition. Within minutes, his face grew grave.
"It is serious," he said quietly. "Your mother has suffered a heart attack."
Francesca felt a panic surge through her as the doctor continued, "She needs to be hospitalized and start medication immediately."
Francesca's heart sank. Being one of the people who live in the slums, they barely made ends meet. The thought of affording medical treatment seemed insurmountable.
"I am sorry, Doctor," Francesca said, her voice small. "We... we do not have enough money. Are there any alternatives to treat her while I look for the means to earn?"
Mr. Jenkins placed a comforting hand on Francesca's shoulder, his expression sympathetic yet determined. "We will find a way, Francesca."
The doctor nodded. "I will start the necessary treatment. We can discuss payment plans later. Right now, your mother's health is the priority."
As Zita was settled into a hospital bed, Francesca stayed by her side, holding her hand. Francesca whispered a silent prayer, vowing to do whatever it took to save her mother.
Francesca spent the night at the clinic, her eyes never leaving her mother's face. The room was quiet except for the occasional murmur of the doctor. As dawn approached, Mr. Jenkins, who had stayed as well, approached Francesca with a gentle expression.
"You should rest, Francesca. You've been up all night," he said kindly.
"I cannot leave her," Francesca replied, her voice resolute. "She needs me."
Mr. Jenkins nodded in understanding. "I'll stay with her. Just rest in the chair for a while. You'll be no good to her if you collapse from exhaustion."
Reluctantly, Francesca agreed. She settled into the chair beside her mother's bed while her head rested on her arms. Despite her worry, the exhaustion soon overtook her, and she drifted into a light sleep.
A few hours later, Francesca awoke to find the doctor speaking quietly with Mr. Jenkins. She quickly stood as her heart pounded with anxiety. "Doctor, how is she?"
The doctor turned to Francesca, his expression serious but hopeful. "Your mother is stable for now. The immediate danger has passed, but she will need ongoing care and medication to prevent another attack."
Francesca nodded as relief flooded through her. "Thank you, Doctor. What must we do next?"
"She will need to stay here for a few days for observation," the doctor explained. "After that, she will require regular check-ups and medication."
As the doctor left, Francesca sat down again, holding her mother's hand. Just then, Zita's eyes fluttered open, and she gave her daughter a weak smile. "Francesca, you look exhausted. You should rest."
"I am fine, Mother," Francesca said in a soft voice. "I was so worried about you."
Zita squeezed Francesca's hand weakly. "I am sorry to have caused you such worry. But I am so proud of you for staying strong."
Tears welled up in Francesca's eyes. "I just want you to be well, Mother. We will find a way to manage the expenses."