Davina burst into the hospital billing office, her chest heaving. She slapped the black credit card down on the counter.
"Fifty thousand," she gasped out. "For Daisy Maddox's surgery. Room 402."
The clerk picked up the card, glancing at the name on the front. She swiped it through the machine. A second later, the receipt printed out.
"Approved," the clerk said, sliding the receipt across the counter.
Davina signed her name, her hand trembling so badly the signature was barely legible. She grabbed the receipt and the payment confirmation, clutching them to her chest like a lifeline.
The weight on her lungs lifted, just a fraction. Daisy would get her surgery. She would live.
She walked down the hallway toward Daisy's room, forcing a smile onto her face. She peeked inside. Daisy was asleep, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a comforting sound.
Davina stepped inside, gently brushing a strand of hair from the little girl's forehead. "It's okay, baby," she whispered. "Aunt Vina fixed it."
She slipped back out into the hallway, leaning against the cool tile wall. The adrenaline faded, leaving her hollow. She let the tears fall, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
"Excuse me? This is ridiculous!"
A loud, obnoxious voice echoed down the hall. Davina froze, her breath catching.
She knew that voice.
She walked toward the noise. At the end of the hallway, a man in a dirty leather jacket was yelling at a nurse. Mitch. Her sister's ex-husband. Daisy's deadbeat dad.
"I'm not paying for that brat!" Mitch shouted, spittle flying from his lips. "She's not my problem!"
Davina marched up to him, her sadness replaced by a burning rage. "What are you doing here, Mitch?"
Mitch turned, a sneer twisting his features when he saw her. "Well, well. The little sister. Come to beg for more money?"
"I'm not the one begging," Davina shot back, stepping into his space. "Why aren't you paying for your daughter's surgery?"
Mitch laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "She's not my daughter. Not anymore. And she's better off dead than a burden on me."
"You son of a-" Davina raised her hand, but she stopped herself. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
Mitch leaned in, his breath hot and sour. "Or maybe she isn't mine at all. Your sister was a slut, just like you. Spreading her legs for anyone with a wallet."
Davina saw red. She didn't think. She just acted.
Her hand flew through the air, connecting with Mitch's cheek with a resounding crack. The force of the slap sent his head snapping to the side.
The hallway went dead silent. Mitch clutched his face, his eyes wide with shock, then narrowing with rage. "You bitch!"
He lunged at her, his hands reaching for her throat. Davina stumbled back, her heel catching on the floor. His fingers closed around her arm, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise.
"Hey! Let go of her!"
A security guard ran down the hall, his hand resting on his taser. Mitch dropped his grip, raising his hands in surrender.
"Whatever, man," Mitch muttered, backing away. "She's crazy. They're all crazy."
He shot Davina a venomous glare. "You'll regret that."
He turned and scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner.
Davina rubbed her arm, her heart still pounding. The security guard asked if she was okay, and she nodded, dismissing him.
"Miss Maddox?" A deep voice spoke from behind her.
She turned. A man in an expensive suit stood there, holding out a crisp white handkerchief. He was older, with silver hair and a kind face.
"I'm from the Blackwell Foundation," he said. "I was asked to look in on your niece's case."
Davina took the handkerchief, dabbing at the red mark on her cheek. "The Blackwell Foundation?"
"Yes. Someone very influential asked us to ensure Daisy receives the best care possible." He handed her a business card. "If you need anything, please call."
He nodded politely and walked away.
Davina stared at the card in her hand. Blackwell. Kash's boss. He must have asked him to help. Despite his cruel words, he had still pulled strings for her.
A warm feeling flickered in her chest, but it was quickly extinguished when her phone buzzed.
A text from Kash.
I see the card is active. Spend it wisely, gold-digger. I'm watching.
The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold dread. He was watching. He thought she was out shopping for shoes, not fighting for her niece's life.
She deleted the message, her jaw tight. She didn't need his approval. She just needed Daisy to survive.
