At the hospital, a doctor in his fifties adjusted his glasses and looked up from his file.
"You must be Samantha Jones."
"Yes. These are my friends...they're like family."
"That's good," he nodded. "I'm Dr. David Moore."
He glanced back at the file. "From what I see, this isn't the first incident. He should've managed his condition better."
The girls stiffened.
"I mean...his condition's manageable. If he follows his doctor's instructions," he added quickly.
"Is he better now?" Samantha asked.
"Yes. Mild heart attack. It could've been avoided if he'd listened to his doctor. But rich men rarely do."
"Doctor, do you hate rich people or something?" Natalie asked sharply.
He chuckled nervously. "Of course not. I was explaining."
"Then explain. What exactly is his condition?" she snap
