He Stole My Mother's Ward

Synopsis

"Where's my mom's ICU bed?" I demanded. No one at the nurse's station looked up. I tapped the counter. The nurse on duty checked the logbook, not bothering to look up. "Linda Summers? She's been moved to a regular room. It's Room 308 on the third floor." "Who approved the transfer? She was still in the ICU when I came by yesterday," I pressed. She finally glanced up at me, her expression unreadable. "Dr. Barnes signed off on it. If you're family, go ask him yourself." I didn't go to the third floor. Instead, I headed straight for the ICU. At the end of the hall, the door to a private room was slightly ajar, and a faint scent of lilies wafted out. I pushed the door open. On the bed lay a young woman in a pale yellow silk nightgown, her hair spilling across the pillow, her cheeks glowing with health. Michael Grant sat by the bed, peeling an apple. The apple peel dropped into the trash can, forming an unbroken ribbon. When he saw me, his hand froze for a moment. "Victoria, you're here." I glanced at the nameplate by the bed. The name had been changed to "Emily Scott," written in neat, precise handwriting. My mom's name had been crossed out with a rough slash. "Who is she?" I asked. My question wasn't about him. It was about this incident. Michael set down the fruit knife and stood up. "She's Emily Scott. I mentioned her before. She's not well and needs special care." I knew who Emily was. She was Michael's first crush back in college. They broke up after graduation, and sometimes, when he got drunk, he'd mumble her name. I never paid it any mind. "My mom's been waiting for three months." "I know," Michael replied, his tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather. "But Emily's case is more urgent. Dr. Barnes said it'd be better to let her have the room first." "More urgent, huh?" I repeated. "She looks like she's in perfect health, and you're sitting here peeling apples for her. What exactly is urgent?" He stayed silent.