An admissions clerk in a gray blazer stepped out from behind the counter holding a clipboard and a tablet.

“We have an administrative billing hold on this patient,” the clerk said, reading her screen.

“Vivian Vance.

The family trust office left instructions that there’s no primary insurance coverage.”

I reached down into my canvas tote bag and took out the navy accordion folder.

I stood my ground and stepped toward the counter, my left thumb pressed hard into my palm.

“My name is Vivian Brooks,” I said, my voice precise and clear despite the cold sweat on my face.