At 52, I had a stroke. «The trip’s paid for, get better,» my husband said, then jetted off to the Maldives with the kids….

Mateo enthusiastically researched diving tours and local attractions. Miguel, overcoming his fears, read reviews about flights and watched videos about tropical islands. And Pamela worked.

The new project turned out to be more complicated than she had anticipated. Management demanded results, clients changed terms. Night meetings, stress, constant sleep deprivation.

But she held on, knowing that soon they would all be together, happy on the shores of the ocean. A week before the trip, Victoria came to her with an unexpected request. Mom, can I bring Lucas with me? You know, the guy I’m dating.

He can buy his own ticket, he just needs a place on our villa. Pamela barely held back her irritation. Victoria, this is a family vacation.

Besides, the villa is only for four. But, mom, we’ve been together for six months, he’s practically family. Victoria puffed her lips, just like she did when demanding something as a child.

No, Pamela said firmly. And it’s not up for discussion. Victoria slammed the door.

At dinner, she deliberately remained silent. Miguel, as usual, tried not to get involved in the conflicts between mother and daughter. Mateo was too busy choosing excursions to notice the family drama.

Three days before the flight, on Wednesday, Pamela woke up with the sensation that her head was filled with lead. Nausea rose in her throat, her right arm tingled. Overwork, she thought.

It will pass. She struggled to get out of bed, trying not to wake Miguel. In the bathroom, Pamela washed her face with cold water and looked at her reflection.

Pale face, dark circles under her eyes, new wrinkles that seemed to have appeared in just the past month. It’s okay, I’ll rest in the Maldives, she thought, opening the medicine cabinet for painkillers. Three more days to go.

But fate had other plans. That May day, Pamela was preparing a festive breakfast. There were only three days left before the trip, and she wanted to build anticipation.

The night had been difficult, with a persistent headache, but she attributed it to overexertion. Salad for Miguel, pancakes for Victoria, scrambled eggs with bacon for Mateo, each to their taste. Pamela carefully sliced the vegetables when she felt the knife slip from her suddenly numb fingers.

A strange sensation spread across her right arm, then down her leg. Pamela tried to lean on the countertop, but her body wouldn’t respond. Everything blurred before her eyes.

Miguel. She called faintly, but her voice sounded distorted, as if it wasn’t hers. Pamela tried to step toward the door and collapsed on the floor, knocking over the chair.

In the fall, she hit the drying rack, the crash waking Miguel. What the? Pamela? He rushed into the kitchen in his open bathrobe and froze when he saw his wife on the floor. My God, what happened to you? Pamela wanted to reply, but her tongue felt swollen, sluggish.

She could only look at her husband, trying to communicate with her eyes the fear and pain that had paralyzed her body. An ambulance, we need an ambulance. Miguel frantically searched for his phone, bumping into furniture.

Just don’t move, it’ll be okay. From the room, Victoria’s voice could be heard. What’s going on? Why the noise so early? She sleepily asked, peeking around the door.

Mom’s not feeling well. Call an ambulance. Miguel shouted, kneeling beside his wife.

Victoria, seeing her mother on the floor, pressed her hands to her mouth in horror. Mom, what happened to her? I don’t know. Call the ambulance, quick.

The next minutes blurred for Pamela into a distorted picture. Terrified screams, someone’s hands trying to lift her, Mateo’s voice bursting into the kitchen. What? How? When did this happen? Consciousness came and went.

The ambulance arrived in 12 minutes. A young paramedic with blonde hair tied and a ponytail quickly assessed the situation. Looks like a stroke.

Immediate hospitalization needed, he said calmly, giving orders to his partner. Who’s going to accompany her? I will, Miguel stepped forward. She’s my wife…