And my father stood up so fast his chair went over, and reached for his wallet.

“How much?

I’ll pay the deposit right now, take the card, take a check, just get her into that room.” Brady and Fairbank went rigid at the same instant, and I understood why before either of them moved: my father’s card was tied to the accounts Brady had just drained.

If he ran it at the billing desk, it would decline, and a declined charge on a fraudulent admission would light up every alarm in the building.

Fairbank stepped in fast, a hand raised.