Three Days on the Pediatric Ward Showed Me What My Mother Tried to Steal From My Son
“Otherwise the merchant will post the final settlement within forty-eight hours.”
“Leave it pending for the time being,” I said.
“I’ll deal with it myself.”
I hung up the receiver and stood in the quiet phone nook for a long moment.
Down the corridor, the automatic doors slid apart as a delivery driver carried a box of fresh flowers to the front desk.
My stomach felt empty, but my hands stayed steady as I slipped my phone back into my tote bag.
By one forty-five the hospital cafeteria was almost deserted except for two staff members wiping down the steam tables.