I left the hospital carrying my daughter’s ashes when my husband finally called from wherever he was with his mistress and coldly said, “The bill has been taken care of. Stop bothering me.” I didn’t argue with him. I didn’t allow him to hear my voice break.

He had created the heartless corporate system that made Ximena powerful enough to stand between a desperate mother and her sick child.

He had ignored seventeen panicked phone calls.

He had told me to stop embarrassing him when I came to his corporate office begging for help.

Most importantly, he had never bothered to check whether the vital treatment he supposedly authorized actually reached his daughter.

Brendan had not personally stolen Chloe’s medical money.

He had simply made caring about what happened afterward someone else’s responsibility.