General Hospital's reputation soared. Mom's professional ranking climbed another level. She was a hero.
She had gotten what she wanted. I assumed I was of no further use to her.
Then my phone buzzed.
Sam, the hospital has arranged a slot for your surgery. Don't be afraid. This time, Mom will definitely save you.
The paperwork looked legitimate. Every stamp crisp, every signature in place. Director Hammond had even called personally, claiming my mother pulled every string to secure this slot.
I debated it for a long time. In the end, I decided to go. I wasn't gambling with my life out of spite. This surgery was what I deserved—what I was owed.
But when I walked into the inpatient ward, no surgeon waited for me.
Instead, I found the people I loathed most in this world.
Max Dickerson and his mother.
I shot a sharp look at Dad.
He wouldn't meet my eyes. Stared at the floor, guilt radiating off him, yet his grip on my arm was iron-tight as he yanked me into a chair.
"Max feels terrible," he muttered. "He wanted to apologize personally. And... if your mother hadn't set this up, we knew you wouldn't come back."
The room went cold. My throat constricted.