The charge nurse, a middle aged woman with exhaustion etched deep into her features, hesitated before nodding. “The patient was brought in without insurance or payment,” she said carefully. “The doctors need to operate, but administration requires a deposit.”
Lucas felt irritation surge through him, followed by something else he did not want to name.
“How much,” he asked.
The nurse gave him a figure, one that barely registered against the vast numbers he handled daily, yet felt unbearably heavy in this context.
He looked down again at the girl. “What is your name,” he asked.
She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “My name is Lila,” she whispered. “Lila Benton.”
“And your mother.”
“Fiona,” Lila said quickly. “Fiona Benton.”
The name struck him like a sudden gust of cold air. For reasons he could not immediately explain, Lucas felt the world tilt slightly beneath his feet. He dismissed the sensation as coincidence and motioned toward the hallway.
“Take me to the doctor,” he said. “Now.”