Zhanna walked out of the hospital room with a heavy heart, her hands still trembling from the touch of her husband’s fading warmth. Denis was in the final stages, the doctors had said. She had been prepared for it, mentally steeling herself for the moment when she would have to say goodbye. But even though she had braced herself for the inevitable, it still hurt more than she could ever have imagined.
She had stayed strong for him, whispered words of encouragement as he lay there, weakened by illness, hoping against all odds that somehow, he would fight through. She had promised him a future, a life they had planned together, one that now seemed so far out of reach. The red dress, the Astoria… it was all slipping through her fingers.
As soon as the door of the ward closed behind her, Zhanna’s strength faltered. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto a bench near the hospital entrance. Tears streamed down her face, hot and bitter, as she let out the grief that had been held in check for so long. She had done everything right, had fought with everything she had, but it wasn’t enough. Denis was slipping away, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“What have we done to deserve this?” she thought, clutching her chest as the sobs wracked her body. “We were just beginning to live.”
Zhanna thought back to their life together: the university days, the quick marriage after graduation, their dreams of starting something together. They had built a small but successful business, a custom furniture workshop, working tirelessly to make ends meet. Their dreams had been simple, yet fulfilling. They had even talked about starting a family, about raising their child in the home they had built. But it all came crashing down when Denis’s health began to deteriorate.
At first, they thought it was just fatigue from the long hours of work. But then the tests came, and the diagnosis was devastating: progressive heart failure. The doctors had been blunt. Without a heart transplant, there was little chance. Denis was placed on the waiting list, but the chances of finding a donor seemed almost impossible. The days turned into weeks, then months, and hope seemed to dwindle with each passing moment.
Zhanna spent every free minute by his side, trying to keep the hope alive. She spoke about their future, about the baby they had dreamed of, about everything they would do once Denis was better. But outside the hospital room, it was a different story. She cried alone, unable to find comfort anywhere. Her world had shrunk to the four walls of that hospital, and her heart was slowly breaking.
One day, as she was leaving Denis’s room, she overheard a conversation between Professor Razumovsky and a few of the medical staff. They were speaking quietly in the corridor, unaware of her presence.
“His heart is almost perfect,” the professor said, his voice low but filled with an odd sort of admiration. “It’s a miracle, really. After two clinical deaths, it’s still beating. But the brain… it’s beyond saving. We need to check compatibility… but the wife and the brother… they’re not being reasonable. They’re too emotional.”
Zhanna froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed the words. It felt as if time had stopped. The room around her seemed to spin as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. “The heart… is perfect?” The words echoed in her mind. Denis’s heart was still beating, even after everything.
The professor’s voice continued, but Zhanna could no longer focus on the rest of the conversation. She felt a rush of emotions flood through her. Confusion. Anger. Pain. She wanted to shout, to demand answers, but she remained frozen in place. Her mind raced as she realized that everything she had been told, everything she had believed about Denis’s condition, had been far from the truth.
In that moment, Zhanna knew she had to confront the truth. Denis’s heart was still beating, but it was his brain that was no longer functioning. The doctors had been hiding this from her, but why? And why had they allowed her to believe that her husband was slipping away, when in fact, he was still alive — his heart still pumping?
The weight of the revelation was too much to bear. Her knees gave way, and she sank to the floor, tears flowing freely now. She felt both betrayed and relieved, torn between the pain of the truth and the possibility of saving Denis.
As she sat there, trembling with emotion, she knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning. The fight for Denis’s life was far from over. She would find out the truth, no matter what it took. And she would do everything in her power to save him — no matter the cost.
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