The morning air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heaviness that had been weighing on Jessica's heart for weeks. She sat by the hospital bed, gripping a fragile hand. Her best friend, Claire, lay there pale and weak, her vibrant spirit dimmed by the crushing weight of her illness.

“Jess,” Claire whispered, her voice hoarse. “You don’t have to stay here every day. I know this is hard.”

Jessica shook her head, tears welling up. “You’re my best friend, Claire. Where else would I be?”

The door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, her face kind but guarded. “Claire, the doctor will see you shortly,” she said gently before stepping back out.

Jessica turned to Claire, unable to contain her anger any longer. “It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to choose between surviving and paying bills.”

Claire looked away, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve done everything I can, Jess. I sold the car, the furniture… I even gave up my apartment. But it’s not enough. And now… they’re saying I only have a few months unless I start treatment.”

Jessica clenched her fists. “You’ll get the treatment. I don’t know how yet, but you will.”

Later that night, Jessica sat in her tiny apartment, staring at her sneakers by the door. She had always been a runner, ever since high school track meets with Claire cheering her on. Running was her escape, her solace. And now, it would have to be her weapon.

She scrolled through her phone, searching for marathons with prize money. One after another, she signed up, her heart pounding as she calculated the total winnings. It would be enough to cover Claire’s treatment. It had to be.

The next morning, Jessica broke the news to her parents over breakfast. Her father’s fork clattered onto his plate. “Five marathons in three months? Jess, that’s insane. You’re not in your best health. You’ve barely trained.”

Jessica met his worried eyes. “I’m alive, Dad. And as long as Claire needs me, I’ll run again. Every time she needs help, I’ll just keep running.”

Her mother placed a trembling hand on hers. “Honey, we’re proud of your heart, but this could hurt you.”

Jessica smiled weakly. “Not as much as losing Claire would.”

Training was brutal. Jessica woke before dawn every day, her muscles screaming in protest as she pushed herself harder and harder. When she wasn’t running, she was working overtime shifts at the diner to pay her entry fees. And every evening, she sat by Claire’s bed, telling her about her progress.

“You’re crazy,” Claire said one evening, managing a faint smile. “But I’ve always loved that about you.”

Jessica laughed. “And you’ll keep loving it when I cross that first finish line.”

The first marathon was in a nearby city. Jessica’s legs burned by mile 20, but the image of Claire’s face—hopeful, scared, and worth every ounce of pain—drove her forward. She crossed the finish line, gasping for air, and when they placed the medal in her hand, she whispered, “This is for you, Claire.”

One down. Four to go.

Each marathon took its toll. Jessica’s feet blistered, her knees ached, and exhaustion weighed on her like a lead blanket. Her father called after each race, begging her to stop. “You’ve done enough, Jess,” he pleaded after her third win.

“It’s not enough until Claire’s okay,” Jessica replied. “And if it isn’t, I’ll run again.”

The final marathon was the toughest yet. Jessica felt like she was running on fumes, every step a battle. The crowd blurred as her vision swam, but she refused to stop. She imagined Claire waiting for her at the finish line, healthy and smiling.

With a final burst of energy, Jessica crossed the line. Tears streamed down her face as she raised her arms in triumph. She had done it.

The next day, Jessica handed the prize money to the hospital administrator. “This will cover Claire’s treatment, right?”

The administrator nodded, stunned. “Yes, it will.”

Jessica rushed to Claire’s room, where her friend sat propped up on pillows, a faint smile on her lips. “Jess, you did it,” Claire said, tears spilling over. “You saved me.”

Jessica grinned through her exhaustion. “I told you. As long as you need me, I’ll run again.”