Chapter 2

Michael and I met through a matchmaker.

His mom, Helen Grant, had someone set us up, saying her son was honest and reliable, ran a small business, and could definitely support a family.

Back then, I really didn't want to get married.

But my mom kept saying, "I can't rest easy with you out there all alone, working so hard."

She had no idea what I was really doing out there.

Michael was decent-looking and polite. The first time we met, he brought my mom a luxury box of artisanal truffle chocolates.

My mom liked him. "This young man is really genuine."

I thought it over and agreed.

For the first two years of our marriage, things were peaceful between us.

He ran his building materials business, and I did my own thing.

He had no idea I actually owned a company.

All he knew was that I worked at some random medical equipment company.

I never corrected him.

Sometimes, Helen would get all passive-aggressive, saying I didn't make enough money and wasn't good enough for her son.

I brushed it off.

But everything changed when my mom got sick.

The day my mom was diagnosed with heart valve disease, I flew back from Diswain that very night.

Healthwell Medical Center was the top private heart hospital in the city.

I personally contacted Richard and explained that my mom needed an ICU bed.

As soon as he checked who I was, his whole attitude changed. "Ms. Chase, don't worry. I'll take care of it."

He had no idea I was married to Michael, and I never told him.

After three months on the waiting list, my mom finally got her ICU bed.

Then I went away on a business trip for three days, and when I came back, everything had changed.

*****

I headed straight to Richard's office.

His office was up on the sixth floor, and the door was shut.

I rapped on the door, and a woman's laughter drifted out from inside.

The door opened.

Richard stood there, his tie crooked, a flash of awkwardness on his face. "Ms. Chase, you're here."

Behind him, someone was sitting on the couch.

It was Helen, Michael's mom.

She was holding a bowl of soup, and when she saw me, her smile stayed right where it was.

She rose slowly and set the bowl down on Richard's desk. "Victoria, you're here.

"Dr. Barnes, have this soup while it's hot. I made it myself."

Then she turned to me, her smile faded a little. "What are you doing here?"

"Helen, I want to know why my mom's ICU bed got given to someone else," I said.

"Given to someone else?" Helen's expression was as if she were hearing about something that didn't matter. "You mean Emily?

"She's frail, and Michael worries about her. She's got no family, no one to care for her while she's sick.

"Your mom's sturdy, isn't she? So what if she stays in a regular room for a few days?"

I stared at her. "Why is she in my mom's bed? And what does that have to do with you?"

Helen's face fell. "What's that supposed to mean? My son's friend is sick. Can't I help her out?"

"Friend?" I repeated.

"Quit jumping to conclusions," Helen barked, her voice getting louder. "Emily's Michael's old college classmate, nothing more. You're always so narrow-minded, always thinking the worst of everyone."

Richard stood there, not saying a word.

On his desk, the soup was still steaming.

I didn't look at him. "Dr. Barnes, who signed off on my mom's transfer?"

Richard picked up his cup and took a sip. "Ms. Chase, this was a decision made after careful consideration. Emily's attending physician submitted an assessment report, and her condition requires close monitoring."

"What exactly is her condition?"

"That's confidential. I can't share her medical details."

I stared at him. "Are you giving her the imported medication meant for my mom?"

Richard paused, his cup hovering at his lips for a second. "The pharmacy handles all the meds. I don't know the details."

Helen cut in, "The meds aren't yours. It's the hospital's call who gets them. You're only here to look after your mom. Why are you sticking your nose in everything?"