Chapter 2
1044 Words
Sara Michaels
Sara sat in the cold hospital corridor with her knees pulled to her chest, staring at the white tile floor like it held answers. Her phone was still clutched in her hand from the call that had ripped her out of the house.
The emergency call had come just minutes after the wine bottle shattered…She heard her mom’s voice, it was so weak, breathless: “Sara… come quickly. I'm dying.”
Sara had barely registered Mariah’s photo falling from her pocket. One glance at the old childhood picture of her younger self smiling in a strange garden she didn't recall.
Her stomach had twisted even tighter. How did Mariah have that? Why would she carry it? But before Sara could open her mouth to ask, the phone rang again, and everything else disappeared.
Now here she was, guilt chewing at her insides.
She could feel the judgemental stares from everyone who was passing by. Everyone knew who she was. Mrs McCarthy. And now, she felt like she owed the world an explanation as to why a top famous model would be caressing *her* husband so shamelessly and so publicly.
Fate was not on her side, with her mom having a few borrowed breaths.. she could only curse at herself for not seeing the signs earlier.
“I should have come more often,” she whispered to herself, voice cracking in the empty hallway. “I should have called every day, visited every weekend. Instead I stayed home… waiting for him. Cooking for him even though he hardly ate, decorating for him and living for him.”
It was always about Tom. The man who stole her heart. Who begged her to marry him or else, he'd end his own life..He claimed to love her so deeply. She felt naive at the moment.
She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to push back the tears. “I was so stupid. So blind.”
The doctor’s door opened. A middle-aged man in scrubs stepped out, clipboard in hand. His face was kind but tired.
“Mrs McCarthy?”
Sara shot to her feet. “Yes. How is she? Is Mom okay?”
He sighed softly. “Your mother has chronic kidney failure. It’s severe. She needs emergency dialysis followed by surgery and a kidney transplant is needed for the long-term effect, but right now we have to stabilize her. The surgery is urgent. We can schedule it within the next forty-eight hours.”
Sara’s heart slammed against her ribs. “Okay. Okay, when? What do I need to do?”
“The total cost for the procedure, including hospital stay and post-op care, is fifty thousand dollars. We require full payment upfront before we proceed. Insurance?”
Sara shook her head numbly. “No… no insurance. My Husband, Mr McCarthy has the company plan covered everything, but—”
The doctor nodded, not unkindly. “Then cash or card. You can settle at the billing desk. The sooner, the better.”
Sara’s legs felt like water as she walked to the payment counter. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone to check the joint account app.
Balance: $0.00
She blinked. Refreshed the screen.
Still $0.00.
A cold wave washed over her. She opened the transaction history only to find every cent gone.
She switched to her personal savings account…her secret little nest egg she’d built from birthday gifts, small freelance app design gigs, money she’d never told Tom about because she wanted it to be a surprise one day.
But it was the same story. There were transfers out, and all toto the same name. Tom McCarthy.
Sara’s breath came in short gasps. The room tilted and she gripped the counter. “No… no, no, no…”
The cashier looked up. “Ma’am? Are you alright?”
Sara didn’t answer. She stumbled away from the desk, back toward the corridor, dialing the only person she could think of.
Lucy picked up on the second ring. “Sara? Where are you? You sound—”
“Mom’s in the hospital,” Sara cut in, voice shaking with silent sobs. “ She has chronic kidney failure and she needs surgery urgently. I am requested to pay fifty thousand upfront. Tom… he took everything. The joint account, my savings…everything. Lucy, please. I need help. Please take it as a loan, I will pay back every scent.”
Silence on the other end. And a few inaudible muffled words.
Then Lucy’s voice, low and pained. “Sara… I can’t help you. My husband took over my accounts last month after that stupid board meeting. He’s controlling every penny. Says I’m too ‘generous.’ Because I opened those charity events. I can’t even access my own money without his approval. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Sara’s knees gave out. She slid down the wall, with the phone still pressed to her ear. “Lucy…”
“I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow morning,” Lucy rushed on. “But you should be having more savings accounts in cases like these. Times are hard you know. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Just… hold on, okay? I love you.”
The line went dead.
Sara stared at the black screen.
She dragged herself back to her mother’s ward. The room was dim, machines beeping softly. Her mom lay pale against the white sheets, eyes closed, breathing shallow.
Sara sank into the chair beside the bed. Took her mother’s cool hand.
“I’m here, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m here.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I promise. I’ll find the money. I don’t know how yet, but I will. I won’t let you go.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:17 a.m.
Tom would be home in a few hours…his flight landed at dawn.
She checked her phone one more time, there was still no call or text from him. Her stomach twisted when she thought of the things he was probably going to say to her once they meet.
She swallowed hard as she twirled the phone in her hands.
“One call won't hurt..” she told herself. “What's the worst that could happen?”
- Writer
