The doctor emerged from the OR.
"The patient is out of immediate danger. However, she has a pre-existing brain tumor. We recommend removing it while we're in there—the follow-up surgery and treatment will run approximately $300,000. You should prepare yourselves."
I nodded.
"I'll cover it."
The next day, $500,000 appeared in my account.
I transferred every cent to the hospital.
Thank God. Mom wasn't meant to die yet.
After three days of fighting for her life, her condition finally stabilized.
Three days. Not a single Fletcher showed up. Not even a text.
But their social media? Thriving.
"Won a MILLION dollars in the lottery! Best New Year EVER!"
"Thanks Mom for sharing the wealth! Love you!"
"Grandma's the best! Thank you!"
"Nana is literally the greatest person alive!"
The comments overflowed with likes and congratulations from relatives I'd never heard from.
I scrolled through everything. Abner hadn't posted a word.
But his fishing buddy's photos told a different story.
New rod. Charter boat. Deep-sea fishing trip.
I smiled coldly and screenshotted every last post.
Two weeks later, Mom was discharged.
I didn't take my parents home. I checked them into the Rehabilitation Hospital instead.
Because the real battle was just beginning.
The one-month deadline arrived.
Right on schedule, Abner called.
I didn't answer.
A voice message followed seconds later, his tone bordering on hysterical.
"Cassandra, what the hell? You took out a $500,000 loan? From a payday lender?"
"Debt collectors are calling ME now! Get home and explain yourself!"
I didn't respond.
Another message. His voice had climbed an octave.
"Why is there a court summons? You're suing my entire family? Have you completely lost your mind?!"
I replied calmly.
"I haven't lost anything."
"But you're about to."
