“It’s incredible that the insurance company is still paying out after all this time without asking any questions,” my father said. The sound of clinking glasses echoed in the air. “To the family’s ‘great tragedy.'”
My heart began to pound, pounding against my ribs like a caged bird. Insurance? I knew we received assistance because of my disability, but I’d always been told it barely covered the cost of my medications and special therapies.
“Hey, but are you sure the new doctor won’t suspect anything?” Emily asked, her voice tinged with a cynicism she hadn’t known she possessed. “Dr. Harris is retiring, and the new one seems more… nosy.”
There was a brief silence. Then, my mother let out that laugh again. That laugh that chilled me to the bone.
“Oh, honey, don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control. As long as Amelia keeps taking her special ‘vitamins’ every morning and night, her legs will stay as weak as cooked noodles. The poor girl is so naive… she’ll swallow anything we tell her if we say it’s for her own good.”
The world stopped. The hallway narrowed. I felt a deafening ringing in my ears.