Early the next morning, Marilyn Fleming was already hovering by the hospital room door, her eyes fixed on the entrance with naked anticipation.
In my previous life, when my entire family was being torn apart online, she had been right there fanning the flames and directing the mob.
I would settle every last debt with her.
It wasn't until eleven that my parents finally arrived, pulling two large suitcases behind them.
A videographer from the wedding company followed, filming everything in silence.
My father smiled apologetically:
"Sorry for the wait—withdrawing that much cash from the bank took longer than expected."
"Today was supposed to be the children's wedding day. Since Brent isn't well enough to attend, we shouldn't let an auspicious date go to waste. We'll handle the formalities privately today and hold the ceremony properly another time."
My mother stepped forward with a warm smile and slowly unzipped one of the suitcases.
A mountain of red-wrapped cash filled the interior, stacked high and dense. Each bundle was tied with a red cord knotted in an elaborate pattern—festive and striking.
Brent and Marilyn stared, their eyes going round, their mouths stretching into greedy grins.