Chapter 3 - The Noose Tightens
Two days passed. Clara worked double shifts, her body running on pure caffeine and fear. She had visited her mother, Eleanor, at Oak Creek, only to find the facility director waiting for her.
“Miss Jenkins, we’ve had a sudden restructuring of our tier system,” the director had said, looking highly uncomfortable. “Your mother’s monthly care cost is increasing by fifteen hundred dollars, effective immediately. If the balance isn't cleared by the end of the week, we will have to transition her to a state-run facility.”
Clara had begged, but the director had simply looked away, mentioning a 'recommendation from the board.'
Clara knew it was Hemlock. It was his punishment for her quiet defiance in the ER.
Now, back at Mercy Harbor, Clara walked into the breakroom and collapsed into a chair. She buried her face in her hands and let the first tears fall. She was trapped. She had ninety thousand dollars in debt, her mother was about to be evicted, and the man responsible was currently being praised on the local news for a groundbreaking cardiac surgery.
“It’s a heavy burden to carry alone.”
Clara gasped, sitting up quickly.
Standing in the doorway of the breakroom was Julian Vance. He was no longer wearing a patient gown. He wore a dark, tailored charcoal suit that hid his bandages, though he held a silver-topped cane in his right hand. Leo stood a few paces behind him in the hallway.
“Mr. Vance!” Clara stammered, wiping her face hurriedly. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. Your sutures—”
“My sutures are fine, Clara,” Julian said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He walked in, his cane clicking softly against the linoleum, and sat in the chair opposite her. “But you are not.”
“I’m just tired. It’s a long shift.”
“Your mother’s name is Eleanor,” Julian said quietly.
Clara froze. Her eyes widened. “How do you know that? Who are you?”
“I am someone who pays his debts,” Julian said. “Two nights ago, you saved my life. And while you did, a man who calls himself a doctor laid his hands on you. He threatened you. He threatened your mother’s care.”
Clara felt a wave of panic. “Please, Mr. Vance. If Dr. Hemlock sees you talking to me, he’ll—”
“Arthur Hemlock cannot hurt you anymore, Clara,” Julian interrupted, his gray eyes locking onto hers with absolute certainty. “As of nine o’clock this morning, the Vance Syndicate has purchased the remaining fifty-one percent of Mercy Harbor Medical Center. I now own this hospital.”
Clara’s breath hitched in her throat. She stared at him, unable to process the words.
“And as for your mother,” Julian continued, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a gold-embossed document, sliding it across the table. “Oak Creek Memory Care is now a subsidiary of my estate. Your mother’s care is paid for life. She has been moved to the executive penthouse suite, with private, round-the-clock nurses.”
Clara looked at the document. It was a receipt of transfer, fully executed. The balance on her mother’s account read: Zero.
“Why?” Clara whispered, tears spilling over her eyelashes. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Because the world is full of monsters who wear white coats and pretend to be saviors,” Julian said, his expression hardening. “And I despise monsters who prey on the helpless. But our work is not finished. Tomorrow night is the Mercy Harbor Annual Gala. Dr. Hemlock is scheduled to receive the Physician of the Decade award.”
May you like
Julian leaned forward, a dangerous spark in his eyes.
“I want you to attend, Clara. Wear something beautiful. Because tomorrow, we are going to watch a god fall.”
