Moe
I pull back even farther from Ing, my back pressing against the couch again.
North America? The words keep bouncing around in my head, but they feel like some kind of bad joke. This can’t be real. I look up at him and raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to say he’s messing with me. When he doesn’t, I let out a small laugh and shake my head.
“Sir Ing, you’re not serious right?”
He stands there looking at me with that steady expression, not cracking a smile or anything. “About your salary this month, if it’s so important I can help you get paid for it. But you don’t have to worry about the money. I’ll pay you more than the hospital does once we leave here.”
I stare at him, really trying to wrap my head around it. This man isn’t joking. He doesn’t seem like the type who does that.
