Chapter 6
At two in the afternoon on the third day, Ethan called, "Ms. Chase, everything's signed. Richard's 38% share transfer agreement was signed this morning.
"With what you already had, you now hold 90% of Healthwell Medical Center. The remaining 10% is scattered among a few small shareholders who aren't willing to sell, but it doesn't matter.
"The business registration change was expedited and went into effect an hour ago."
"Send me photos of the proof," I said.
Five seconds later, a few photos popped up on my phone.
They were share transfer certificates stamped with official seals.
On the line for the hospital's ultimate beneficial owner read: [Victoria Chase.]
I slipped my phone into my pocket and made my way to the third floor.
My mom was hooked up to an IV. Her face looked paler.
Julie whispered to me, "Her oxygen level dropped to 88% today. Dr. Mason said we need to get her back on the imported meds and hooked up to heart monitoring as soon as possible."
I squeezed my mom's hand. "Mom, I'm getting you back today."
"Where to?" she asked.
"The fifth floor. Your old bed," I replied.
She looked at me, a little hesitant. "Isn't that girl still there?"
"She's not there anymore," I said.
I headed up from the third floor to the fifth.
When I got to the ICU corridor, I could see from a distance that the door to room seven was wide open.
It was noisy inside.
As I got closer, I realized it was Emily talking to her phone.
She was live-streaming.
Her phone was set up on a stand by the bed, the camera pointed right at her.
She was wearing a brand-new silk nightgown, her lipstick freshly applied, and her makeup was perfectly done. "Hey girls, check this out. This is the luxury suite Michael arranged for me."
She panned the camera around the room. "It has a private bathroom, imported equipment, and three nutritious meals a day.
"Even though I'm sick, with Michael by my side, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world."
The comments were scrolling across the screen.
[So sweet.]
[What kind of fairy-tale romance is this?]
[You're so lucky. You married such a great guy.]
Emily smiled and replied, "He's not my husband, but he promised he'd always look after me."
Michael wasn't in the room.
But he'd sent a huge bouquet of white roses, sitting on the windowsill.
Next to the vase was a card that read: [Emily, when you're better, I'll take you to see the sea.]
I stood in the doorway.
Emily caught sight of me on her phone screen.
She didn't panic. She looked up and said to the camera, "Oh, it's Michael's wife."
The comments exploded.
[What? He's married?]
[Is this a drama?]
[Is his wife here to make trouble?]
Emily gave the camera her best innocent, wounded look. "Victoria, don't worry. Michael and I are really ordinary friends. He saw I was sick and helped me get admitted; that's all."
The comments kept coming.
[Come on, ordinary friends don't send white roses.]
[His wife is so pitiful.]
[If I were his wife, I'd have divorced him already.]
I slipped my hand into my pocket.
My fingers brushed against the screenshot of the signed agreement.
The effective date was today.
It was stamped with an official seal.
Healthwell Medical Center's actual controller had been me.
I looked at Emily, at the live-stream camera, and at the comments scrolling by.
My mom was on the third floor, her oxygen level at 88%, struggling to breathe.
And Emily was here, live-streaming, flaunting the bed and meds she took from my mom.
I stepped into the room.