Seventy-Three Thousand Dollars in Phony Medical Bills, Paid for a Pregnant Replacement

Outside, the courthouse’s shadow had stretched across the parking lot, and most of the row was empty.

I came down the steps with the folder under my arm and the bracelet tapping softly against the cardboard.

Trent followed me out with his copy of the settlement folded in his jacket pocket.

“You could’ve left my mother standing in front of a judge, and you didn’t,” he said.

“You could’ve taken it all.

You didn’t take it all.”

I didn’t answer.