Chapter 4

04

The next morning I woke to a racket.

"Bed 36, Leo Henson! Pack your things, now!"

It was the head nurse again. This time two male orderlies stood behind her with cleaning gear in hand. She meant it.

"Head Nurse, just half a day more, only half a day—"

I struggled upright, dizzy, the world swimming. That was the poison working through me, the kidney failure eating its way in.

"There's no more time. There's an emergency patient outside waiting for this bed. You've got no money, and there's nothing we can do."

Her tone was ice.

"We'll move your things out to the lobby. Call your family yourself."

The blanket was yanked off. Cold air poured over me and I shook all over.

The other patients turned their heads away. No one dared speak.

In the face of death, cheap sympathy means nothing.

Like a bag of garbage, I was "escorted" out of the ward, belongings and all.

I sat on the cold metal bench in the hospital lobby, watching people come and go, and felt an absurdity I'd never known.

That was when several men in black suits walked in.

They wore dark glasses and were built like walls. One look told you they weren't ordinary.

They went straight to the information desk, seemed to be asking after something.

I lowered my head. Probably collectors, tracking me down.

If that was it, I'd rather die right now.

"Where's Leo Henson?"

A cool, familiar voice rang through the lobby, familiar and yet carrying an authority I didn't know.

My whole body jolted. That voice—

My head snapped up.

At the lobby entrance, a woman stood backlit.

She wore a beautifully cut camel cashmere coat, seven-centimeter red-soled heels, her long hair pinned up neat behind her head.

The presence she carried clashed with the noise and squalor and shabby poverty of the lobby.

It was Pansy Fox.

But not the Pansy in the faded jeans.

The woman standing there now gave off the smell of money and power.

She took off her dark glasses. The eyes were as sharp as ever, but when they found me huddled in the corner of the bench, they visibly trembled.

She came at me in long strides, her heels striking the floor like war drums.

The men in black fell in behind her at once, clearing the crowd out of the way.

"Pan— Pansy?"

My throat was dry. I couldn't believe my eyes.

She stopped in front of me and looked down at me.

At my matted hair, my swollen face, the filthy hospital gown I was wearing.

Without thinking I tried to hide the hand tucked up in my sleeve, tried to hide the slippers with my toes poking out.

In front of this girl I had once supported, I didn't want to show her the worst of me.

"How did it come to this?"

Her voice shook a little, then she forced it back down.

"Why are you here…"

I gave a bitter smile.

"Come to watch me fall apart?"

She didn't answer. She turned to the head nurse and the doctors hurrying over.

The head nurse who'd been ordering me around a moment ago now took in the scene and looked rattled.

"Who put him out in the hallway? Who stopped his medication?"

Pansy's voice wasn't loud, but every word came out cold.

"This— this lady, Mr. Henson owes too much in fees—"

The head nurse stammered out her explanation.

"Owes fees?"

Pansy let out a cold laugh.

She snapped her fingers.

One of the men behind her, who looked like an assistant, stepped up at once and opened a black briefcase.

For a second, the lobby went silent.

Electronic payment was the norm now, but nothing hits the eye like the real thing.

Bundle after bundle of red bills, stacked in the case like bricks.

"That's half a million in cash."

Pansy pointed at the case.

"Enough to clear his fees? Enough to get him into the best VIP ward you've got?"

The head nurse's eyes went glassy.

"Enough— it's enough! More than enough!"

"Then cut the talk. Move him to a room now, and get your best specialists in for a consult."

Pansy ordered.

"Don't bother—"

I forced myself up, pride flaring, unwilling to take this kind of handout.

"Pansy, I don't want your money. We're square now."

"Square?"

Pansy turned her head and fixed her eyes on me, a look in them so tangled I couldn't read it.

"Leo Henson, what makes you think we're square?"

She didn't wait for an answer. She stepped forward and took my wrist.

Her hand was warm. Mine was cold as ice.

"Bring him."