Chapter 45: Let’s Make A Call
Harper’s POV
"Harper?"
Mom’s voice cut through the tense silence. I spun around so quickly I almost dropped my phone. She was trying to push herself up from the wheelchair, one hand gripping the armrest for support, concern etched across her pale face. I rushed towards her.
"What’s going on?" she asked, her eyes drifting from me to Justin, then to the hospital manager standing rigidly behind the reception desk.
Justin rarely raised his voice. But right now his jaw was tight enough to crack, his shoulders were stiff, and even though he wasn’t shouting, the quiet anger rolling off him filled the entire lobby.
I forced a smile onto my face. "It’s nothing, Mom."
She frowned. "It doesn’t look like nothing."
I hurried back to her side and crouched so we were eye level. "They’re just sorting out some paperwork," I said.
"Paperwork?" she repeated.
"Mm-hmm." I nodded a little too enthusiastically. "They entered something incorrectly into the system. They’re fixing it."
She studied my face for a long second. I hated lying to her. Especially now. Especially when she’d finally started smiling again these past few days.
"If you’re sure," she said finally.
"I’m sure." I squeezed her hand. "Just sit back and let us handle it."
She nodded reluctantly and settled back into the wheelchair. The moment I stood, Emma caught my wrist. She didn’t say anything until we’d taken several steps away, far enough that Mom couldn’t hear us. Then she folded her arms.
"Tell me what’s really happening," she said firmly.
"Emma—"
"No." Her voice didn’t waver. "I know you. You only smile like that when you’re hiding something." She glanced toward Justin. "And why does he look like he’s about to punch somebody?"
I sighed. There was no point pretending anymore. "The hospital," I started, swallowing hard, "they’re refusing to continue Mom’s treatment. They said they received instructions from management. They won’t tell us who."
Emma blinked. "What?"
For a second she just stared. Then her eyes drifted toward Justin. "Why is Justin arguing with them?"
I hesitated, because this wasn’t my secret to tell. But it wasn’t exactly a secret anymore. "He paid," I said, lowering my voice.
Emma frowned. "What?"
"He paid for Mom’s treatment."
Her eyes went wide. "Justin paid?" she breathed.
"Shh!" I grabbed her arm before her voice carried across the lobby. "Keep your voice down."
She immediately covered her mouth. "I’m sorry. I just—" Her eyes filled with tears. "He paid?"
I nodded. "I only found out a few minutes ago."
Emma looked over at Justin again and the tears she’d been fighting finally escaped. "Oh my God," she whispered. "He didn’t have to do that.How are we going to pay him back"
"I know," I said quietly.
"Mom doesn’t know, does she?"
"She doesn’t. And I don’t want her finding out right now." Emma nodded quickly. "She will blame herself," I continued. "She will think she’s become a burden."
I looked back toward our mother. She was smiling faintly at Noah, completely unaware that her treatment had just been pulled out from under her. The thought made my chest ache. She had suffered enough and she clearly did not deserve this
Emma wiped her eyes. "So what do we do now?"
I didn’t have an answer right away. "If this hospital won’t take her," I said, my voice cracking slightly, "then we’ll find another one. And we have to do it today. I don’t care how far away it is. We will figure something out." We always did. Even if figuring it out meant sleeping less, working more, borrowing, begging. We always found a way. Besides, Justin gave me some money, that should be a starting point for what ever payment we need.
Emma reached for my hand. "We’ll do it together," she said softly.
I nodded. Together. Just like we’d always done.
Behind us, Justin suddenly pulled his phone from his pocket. His expression had gone frighteningly calm. He scrolled through his contacts, tapped a number, and waited. After two rings, someone answered.
"Dad," he said, his voice clipped. A pause. "We need to talk." Another silence. "Did you do this?"
I couldn’t hear the reply, but I saw the change in Justin’s face. His jaw tightened. The muscles in his neck flexed. His fingers curled around the phone. "No," he said. "I’m asking you directly." Another pause. "No." His eyes darkened. "I don’t care what you think of her. I asked you a question."
More silence. I stepped closer without thinking. Justin let out a humorless laugh. "So that’s your answer?" His father’s voice was loud enough now that I caught fragments through the speaker. Words that made my stomach turn.
"...that gold-digging girl..."
"...leave her alone..."
"...she’ll only ruin you..."
Justin closed his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, they looked different. Not angry. Heartbroken. "Dad," he said, his voice quiet. "So that’s really who you’ve become?" Silence. "I don’t even recognize you anymore." Another pause. He shook his head slowly. "No." His voice cracked just enough for me to hear it. "You’re not the father I grew up with."
The line went dead. Justin lowered the phone without another word and stood there for several seconds staring at the black screen.
I walked over carefully and rested my hand between his shoulder blades. His muscles were impossibly tense. "Justin," I said softly.
He let out a long breath. Then he looked at me. Something had shifted behind his eyes. Not defeat. Resolve.
"My grandmother sits on this hospital’s board," he said, slipping his phone back into his hand. "So does my grandfather." He met my gaze, his expression calm despite the storm I knew was raging inside him. "If they want to play games," he said, a faint determined smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "then it’s time I started using the family name they’ve been trying so hard to keep me away from."
He unlocked his phone again. "I’m calling my grandparents," he said.
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