Chapter 3

Linda ranted for twenty minutes straight.

Frank tried to calm her down with a quick "Alright, alright," but Linda shot him a glare that shut him right up.

Emily put her phone away and leaned in, whispering, "David, don't take it personally. My mom's just stressed out. Just pay the money for now, and you and Julia can talk it over when she's better."

I gave her a look.

"Emily, do you know who Michael Harris is?" I asked.

Her expression stiffened for a second.

Just a split second. But I caught it.

She knew.

She looked away. "Who? Never heard of him."

I didn't press her.

At exactly four in the morning, the emergency room light finally went out.

The doctor pushed the door open and pulled off his mask.

"Family?" he called out.

I stood up, and Linda rushed over as well.

The doctor explained, "The patient had a massive hemorrhage from an ectopic pregnancy. We've managed to stop the bleeding for now, but her condition is still unstable.

She'll need surgery, and the bill's gonna run you 27,000 to 40,000 dollars, maybe more if there are complications."

He looked at me. "Are you her husband?"

"Yes," I replied.

"You'll need to sign the consent form for the surgery, and you'll have to cover the rest of the cost as soon as possible. The deposit you paid isn't enough."

Linda immediately turned to me. "Did you hear that? Pay up, now."

I slipped my hand into my pocket. I felt the bank card which one grand left.

Then I turned to the doctor.

"Doctor," I said.

"Yes?" he replied.

"What happens if we don't do the surgery?"

Everyone froze.

Linda's eyes went wide.

The doctor looked at me, like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "What did you say?"

I repeated myself, my voice flat. "If we give up on the treatment, what happens to her?"

The hallway went dead silent for three seconds.

Then Linda exploded.

"David, are you out of your mind? She your wife." Her scream echoed down the hallway.

Someone from the room next door poked their head out, took one look, and quickly shut the door.

"What did you just say? Say it again." she came at me, grabbing for my collar.

For the first time ever, Frank actually stepped in and held her back.

"Linda, calm down..." He said.

"Calm down? Screw that." she snapped, yanking her hand free from Frank. Her nails were practically in my face. "David, are you even human? Your wife is in there, and you're talking about giving up on her?"

Emily stood up, her face pale and tense.

"David, what do you mean by that?" she asked.

The doctor just stood there, frowning at me.

I didn't back down. And I didn't flinch.

I just stood there, staring down at my mismatched feet. One in a slipper, the other in a dress shoe.

"I don't have the money," I said.

I looked up, meeting Linda's eyes. "I really don't have the money."

"Bullshit." Linda's voice went shrill. "600,00 dollars, 600,000. Are you seriously pretending to be broke right now?"

"It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"All of it."

Linda froze for a second, then her anger flared up even more.

"Did you hide the money? David, how dare you! Are you cheating on Julia? Did you move the money somewhere else?" she shouted.

She started shoving me. Once, twice, three times.

I took a step back.

Not because she could actually move me, I couldn't be bothered to get into a physical fight with her.

"I'll call the cops. You really think you can just take our shared money and run?" She yelled.

I chuckled.

Linda shuddered at that laugh.

"What's so funny?" she snapped.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket.

I opened the banking app and held up the transaction history right in her face.

"See for yourself," I said.

She snatched it from me.

Frank and Emily crowded around, both of them leaning in to see.

The three of them stared at the screen. They scrolled through the transactions one by one.

It read: [Michael Harris.

[Michael Harris.

[Transfer: 17,000 dollars.

[Transfer: 27,000 dollars.

[Transfer: 40,000 dollars.

[Transfer: 67,000 dollars.]

Linda's hand started to shake.

"This, this is..." She stammered.

"Michael," I read it out for her. "Your daughter's college sweetheart. Over two years, more than 570,000 dollars, not a penny missing, all went straight into his pocket."

The hallway was so quiet, you could hear the beeping of the ventilator from down the hall.

Linda's lips parted, then closed, then parted again.

Frank was completely stunned.

Emily's face went pale.

She really did know it all along.

"You... You must have made a mistake," Linda finally squeezed out, her voice dropping several octaves lower than before.

"It's all right there in the bank records," I pointed at the screen. "Every transaction has a timestamp, the amount, and the recipient. If you think it's fake, you can call the bank right now and check."

She didn't make the call. Because she saw the notes.

Itread: [Michael, you've got this. I believe in you.

[Don't worry about David. He'll never find out.

[This is the last one.]

The last one.

Three days ago.

50,000 dollars.

Linda's hand dropped. The phone almost hit the floor, but Emily caught it in time.

The hallway fell silent again, the quiet stretching on and on.

Then Linda did something I never saw coming.

She took a deep breath and raised her head.

Linda stared right at me and said, "Even if Julia did wrong, she's still your wife. Her life is on the line. And you're really gonna argue about money now?"

I stared at her.

I caught every single word.

She wasn't in denial.

She knew the truth, but she still tried to guilt-trip me.

"Mrs. Stone," I said.

For the first time, I didn't even call her "Linda."

That title stung her.

"600,000 dollars. That's five years of my blood, sweat, and tears. 2,700 dollars a month for five years. I never took a vacation, never bought a car, wore the same puffer jacket for three winters, and ate three-dollar takeout lunches every day," I said.

I enunciated every word. "Now you're telling me your daughter spent all that money supporting another guy, and you still expect me to keep shelling out for her?"

"What money? You don't even have any." Linda was losing it. "So you're gonna stand there and watch her die?"

"That's your daughter."

I said it slow and clear, making sure she heard every word. "Not my daughter."