In a ward of an expensive private clinic, a young woman was quietly fading away. The doctors moved around her cautiously, as if afraid to disturb d:ea:th itself. Periodically, they cast worried glances at the monitors, where the vital signs flickered weakly.
It was clear to them: even the largest sums of money couldn’t always bring someone back from the other side. In the mean time, a tense meeting was underway in the chief doctor’s office. Doctors in immaculate white coats sat around the table in the dim light.
Beside them sat her husband, a well-groomed businessman in an expensive suit. Young surgeon Konstantin was particularly agitated: he was passionately insisting on an operation. «Not everything is lost yet!
We can save her!» he almost shouted, sharply tapping his pen on the table. Then her husband said: «I’m no doctor, but I am Tamara’s closest person,» he began theatrically with grief. «And that’s why I am categorically against the surgery.
Why subject her to more suffering? It will only prolong… her agony,» he said with such feeling that even the most cynical people in the room shed a tear. The chief doctor mumbled uncertainly: «You may be wrong…»
But Konstantin jumped to his feet with anger: «Do you even realize you’re denying her the last chance?!»
However, Dmitry—this was the husband’s name—remained unshakable, like a rock.
He had his methods for influencing decisions, and he used them without hesitation. «The surgery will not be performed,» he said firmly. «I’ll sign any refusal.»
And he signed it.
One swift stroke of the pen—and the woman’s fate was sealed. Only some people knew the cruel reason behind such a choice. Dmitry had become wealthy thanks to her—her connections, her money, her intelligence.
And now, as she teetered on the edge of life and d:eath, he was already anticipating the moment when he could freely control her empire. His wife’s d:eat:h was beneficial to him—and he did not hide it from those who might expose him. He passed the chief doctor a «reward» that was impossible to refuse—to ensure the operation was not supported.
Dmitry had already chosen a plot at the cemetery for the living woman! «Excellent plot,» he mused, walking among the graves with the air of a real estate expert. «Dry place, an elevation.
From here, Tamara’s spirit will be able to gaze at the city.»
The cemetery keeper, an elderly man with deeply set eyes, listened to him with confusion. «When are you planning to bring… well, the body?»
«I don’t know yet,» Dmitry replied indifferently. «She’s still in the hospital.
Still hanging on.»
The man involuntarily choked. «So, you’ve chosen a place… for a living person?»
«Well, I’m not planning to bury her alive,» Dmitry scoffed. «I just know she’ll soon be out of her misery.»
Arguing was pointless.
Dmitry was was expecting a vacation abroad and a long-legged mistress. He dreamed of returning just in time for the funeral. «What a lucky calculation,» he thought, settling into his Mercedes.
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