Chapter 2

The half-closed door of my clinic was kicked open with a loud bang.

Tyler rushed into the room, flanked by two tattooed thugs.

He kicked the trash can near the entrance over, pointed a finger at my face, and screamed:

"Chloe, are you even human? You're a big-shot doctor now, making bank."

"And you throw two hundred bucks at your own mother who raised you? How can you be so heartless?!"

The patients waiting in the hallway and the passing nurses were startled.

A dozen people poked their heads into my clinic, whispering and gossiping among themselves.

"What's going on? Is that doctor refusing to take care of her own mother?"

"The old lady looks really sick. Her daughter is dressed so professionally, but she won't even pay her medical bills?"

Hearing the commotion outside, Tyler smirked, looking even more pleased with himself.

He marched up to my desk and slammed a thick stack of stamped documents right onto my keyboard.

"Private VIP Suite Application!" Tyler yelled.

"The doctor said Mom's stroke is serious. She needs to stay in the best private luxury suite! As a physician at this hospital, you need to sign as her guarantor right now."

"And pay the $20,000 deposit! Otherwise, I'll wreck this entire clinic today!"

Margaret Vance, sitting in her wheelchair, took the cue.

Clutching her chest, she began to wail:

"How did I raise such an ungrateful monster? I worked myself to the bone to raise you, and now you won't even care for your own mother..."

I didn't say a word. I calmly pushed the papers aside.

I grabbed my mouse, clicked onto the hospital's internal database, and pulled up her lab results from thirty minutes ago.

I turned the computer monitor around so it faced the crowd gathering at the door.

Then, I read the report out loud:

"Margaret Vance, female, fifty-six years old. CT scans and blood work show: Mild lower back pain due to a herniated disc and slightly high cholesterol. Neurological reflexes: Completely normal. No signs of stroke or brain hemorrhage. Conclusion: No emergency or hospitalization required."

I looked up and stared directly at Tyler.

"A herniated disc doesn't even qualify for a regular ward bed, and you want a VIP private suite?"

"Tyler, if you want to scam me for money, at least learn some basic medicine first."

The onlookers outside gasped, their expressions instantly turning into amusement.

"Wait, so she didn't even have a stroke?"

"Is the brother crazy? Trying to scam his own sister at her workplace?"

Having his lie exposed in public made Tyler's face turn beet red.

He slammed his palm on my desk and roared:

"Back pain is still pain! My mom is hurting so much she can't even walk!"

"You're giving us the money regardless! We aren't leaving today without twenty thousand dollars!"

One of the thugs behind him sneered:

"Yeah, your mom worked so hard to raise you, and now you're successful. It's just twenty grand. Being this stingy is just cold-blooded."

I lowered my eyes, snatched the $211 back from Margaret's hand, and slapped it onto her medical chart.

"Keep it for some cheap painkillers. This is the last bit of decency I'm giving you."

With that, I pressed the security call button on my desk and leaned back in my chair.