Chapter 42: No Treatment
Harper’s POV
By the time Justin and I stepped out of his apartment, the knot that had settled in my chest that morning had loosened. Not disappeared. Just loosened.
His words kept replaying in my head. You are not fighting alone anymore. You have me now. I had spent so many years believing I had to shoulder everything by myself that hearing someone say those words still felt foreign. Comforting. Terrifying. Because if I let myself rely on him, I also had something to lose.
Justin slipped his hand into mine as we waited for the elevator. "You’ve gone quiet again," he said.
"I’m thinking," I replied.
"About your documentary?"
I smiled. "How did you know?"
"Because when you think about your family, you get this crease right here." He gently tapped the space between my eyebrows. "But when you’re thinking about your documentary, you stare into space like you’re mentally editing footage."
I laughed. "You’ve been studying me."
"I have," he said simply. The elevator doors opened. "And I’m getting pretty good at it."
Heat crept into my cheeks. "I’m not that predictable."
"You’d be surprised," he said, smiling.
The elevator stopped on the lobby floor and we stepped out together. We had barely crossed the marble entrance when another couple walked in from outside.
"Justin!" a familiar voice called out.
Justin looked up. "Mason."
The two teammates exchanged a quick handshake before Mason draped an arm around the young woman beside him. I blinked. I knew her. The brunette smiled the moment our eyes met.
"Hi again," she said warmly.
Recognition clicked instantly. "You!" I pointed at her before laughing. "You’re one of the girls who volunteered to help me with the documentary."
"I am," she said, grinning. "And now I guess I should introduce myself properly." She nudged Mason playfully. "I’m Ava. Mason’s girlfriend."
I looked from Ava to Mason, then back again. A slow smile spread across my face. "Hold on." I looked at Justin. "So this is why you found someone so quickly after telling me you’d arranged help."
Justin rubbed the back of his neck, looking entirely unapologetic. "Guilty. I figured I’d recruit people I actually trust."
"Besides," Mason shrugged, "she’s been looking for an excuse to get involved."
"I have," Ava admitted cheerfully. "Your documentary sounds genuinely fun."
I laughed. "I was wondering why complete strangers were suddenly volunteering their time."
"They’re not strangers anymore," Mason said.
"They’re teammates," Justin corrected him with a grin. "Family."
Something warm settled in my chest. Family. It was such a simple word, yet hearing Justin say it made me realize that wasn’t just how his team functioned, they genuinely looked after one another.
Ava smiled brightly. "So Monday?"
I nodded. "Monday."
"I’ll help organize interview schedules," Ava offered.
"And I can help with behind-the-scenes footage," another familiar voice added.
I turned. Mia stepped through the revolving doors carrying two iced coffees. She handed one to Ava before smiling at me. "I figured if we’re helping, we might as well go all in."
I couldn’t stop smiling. "You guys seriously don’t know how much this means to me."
Mia waved me off. "Hey. You’re Justin’s girlfriend." Ava nodded in agreement. "Which means you’re one of us now."
Emotion tightened my throat. Nobody had ever welcomed me into a group this effortlessly. Not without expecting something in return.
Justin gently squeezed my hand, and when I looked up at him, his smile seemed to say, See? I told you.
"We’ll see you both on campus Monday," Mason said.
"Oh!" Ava snapped her fingers. "What are you guys doing tomorrow afternoon?"
I looked at Justin. Justin looked at Mason. Mason immediately groaned. "No."
Ava ignored him completely. "Let’s have lunch. The four of us. A double date."
Justin smirked. "I like that idea."
I smiled. "That sounds really nice."
"Perfect. We’ll text you," Ava said.
After saying goodbye, Mason and Ava headed toward the elevators while Justin led me outside toward his SUV. As soon as the doors closed behind us, I glanced sideways at him.
"You planned all of that," I said.
"I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about," he replied, the picture of innocence.
"Liar."
"I prefer thoughtfully prepared," he said.
I bumped his shoulder. "You’ve been building me a support system."
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he opened the passenger door for me. "I just think," his voice softened, "everyone deserves people they can lean on."
..
An hour later, we made a quick stop at home. Mom was already dressed for her follow-up appointment, Emma fussed over whether she’d packed the medical documents, and Noah insisted on carrying the small hospital bag despite it being almost as big as he was. I smiled through it all. Laughed when Emma teased Justin about driving too carefully. Answered Mom’s questions about school. Pretended everything was fine. No one needed to know about the messages. No one needed to know that every time my phone buzzed, my heart skipped a beat. Especially not today.
..
The hospital lobby felt strangely familiar. The smell of disinfectant. The polished floors. The quiet conversations. I’d walked these halls so many times over the past few months that I’d started recognizing faces. The elderly security guard near the entrance. The volunteer arranging magazines. The receptionist with the bright red glasses.
She smiled politely as we approached. "Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon," I replied. "We’re here for my mom’s follow-up appointment."
She nodded and began typing. Then her smile slowly disappeared. Her fingers stopped moving. A crease formed between her brows as she read something on the screen, then read it again.
Justin noticed it too. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
The receptionist hesitated. "I’m sorry," she said quietly.
My stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"
She glanced around before lowering her voice. "It says here that all future treatment for this patient has been discontinued."
I frowned. "I’m sorry?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "There has to be a mistake. The treatment was paid in full. Can you check again?"
She nodded quickly. "I already did." She refreshed the page. The same result appeared.
"No." I shook my head. "Please. There must be another file. The surgery was paid for. The follow-up appointments were included."
She looked genuinely uncomfortable. "Yes, they were. Your balance is fully settled." Relief flickered through me for half a second. Then she continued. "But we received written instructions." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "As of this morning, our staff has been directed not to provide any further treatment or follow-up care for your mother."
Everything inside me went still. "What?"
Justin stepped forward immediately. "Who gave that instruction?" he asked, his voice steady but firm.
"I can’t disclose that," she said, looking over her shoulder nervously. "But I can tell you this wasn’t a medical decision."
A chill ran down my spine. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two nurses standing near the hallway. Women who had greeted us by name during every previous visit. Women who had smiled at my mother and asked how she was sleeping. Today, the moment our eyes met, they looked away. Too quickly. Too deliberately. As if someone had warned them not to speak to us.
My pulse began to pound. Someone had done this. Someone with enough power to make an entire hospital obey a single written instruction. And whoever it was already knew exactly where to hurt us.
Comments