The nurse wanted to steal the precious ring of a man declared lifeless, but when she touched his hand, she let out a scream of fright.
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For almost three years, Hellen had been working in a very particular ward. Over time, she had grown used to everything: the icy air, the heavy silence, and the indifference that surrounded those who would never return. But one thing remained clear: in this job, it was impossible to get rich. Her salary barely covered a small room and a few groceries.
Yet Hellen dreamed of another life: a house of her own, travels to faraway countries she only knew from pictures. But her dreams would remain out of reach as long as she settled for her honest job.
So, she crossed a line she never confessed to anyone. She began taking advantage of certain opportunities. Not at the expense of her colleagues or the hospital⦠but of those who, she thought, would never come back.
Often, the deceased arrived still adorned with precious jewelry: rings, necklaces, watches. Sometimes even with a wallet or car keys. Families, devastated by their loss, rarely noticed that something was missing. And even when suspicion arose, no one ever got a clear answer.
For Hellen, it had become āeasy money.ā
One evening, the body of a man in his thirties was brought in, declared a victim of cardiac arrest. He seemed to come from a wealthy background: elegant clothes, well-groomed appearance. But what immediately caught Hellenās attention was the gold ring he wore. Wide, shiny, clearly of great value.
āProbably very expensiveā¦ā she thought.
She waited for the right moment. When the on-call doctor left and the orderly walked away with a stretcher, Hellen found herself alone with him. In this section, the cameras had been out of service for a long time, never repaired.
She approached. His face looked peaceful, as if he were simply sleeping. Hellen had seen hundreds like it. She reached out her hand and tried to remove the ring⦠But the moment her fingers brushed against his skin, she let out a scream of terror.
Her heart nearly stopped. š±š±
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The manās hand was warm. Trembling, she immediately let go, pale and seized with fear.
āThis canāt be⦠those who are gone are never warmā¦ā she thought.
And yet, her instinct told her she wasnāt mistaken. Mustering all her courage, she touched his wrist again.
A pulse.
Weak, irregular, but undeniably present.
Hellen recoiled suddenly, her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry. She realized the unthinkable: the man was still breathing.
If she hadnāt tried to take the ring, he would have been considered gone for good, and by the next day, he would have been prepared for the final examination.
The seconds felt like an eternity. But suddenly, Hellen was certain: her act, which she thought shameful, had just saved a life.
Without hesitation, she ran for help and called the doctor.










