Chapter 3The Money for My Grandson’s Surgery Disappeared

I dragged Ryan into the bank.

He looked thoroughly fed up with me, but he still followed me to the teller window.

I slid my ID and bank card across the counter.

“I want to withdraw twenty thousand dollars. All of it in cash.”

This was the account where I kept my retirement savings.

It was the last money I had.

The teller checked the account, then looked up at me.

“Sir, your balance is $20,074. You want to withdraw twenty thousand?”

I nodded, my fingers digging into the edge of the counter.

The teller counted out the cash, bundled it, and placed the thick stacks on the counter.

“Sir, please count it.”

I didn’t.

I pushed the money straight toward Ryan.

“You count it.”

He froze for a second, then carefully counted through the bills.

“Twenty thousand. It’s all here.”

I stuffed the cash into a canvas bag, clutched it tightly against my chest, and pulled him back toward the hospital.

The same billing clerk was still at the hospital cashier’s desk.

I set the bag on the counter and pulled out the bundles of cash one by one.

“Twenty thousand in cash. You see it, right? Take the payment and give me a receipt. My grandson’s surgery can’t be delayed again.”

He looked at me, then at the pile of money.

He ran the bills through a cash-counting machine.

Everything checked out.

He nodded, entered the payment into the computer, then handed me a receipt.

“All set. The payment went through. I’ll notify the surgical team that it’s been received. Just wait for them to contact you.”

My hands shook as I stared at that thin slip of paper.

Then I turned and threw my arms around Ryan.

“Ryan, look! It went through! Ben’s going to be okay!”

Ryan started crying too and hugged me tightly.

That night, I stayed beside Ben’s bed and didn’t leave once.

He slept soundly, his tiny hand wrapped around one of my fingers.

Watching him sleep, I suddenly saw Ryan as a little boy again.

He’d once been this small too.

Whenever he had a fever, he wouldn’t let me go anywhere. He’d just hold on to my hand the entire time.

If Ben made it through this surgery, he’d grow up just like Ryan had.

The thought filled me with hope.

I didn’t sleep at all that night.

I kept watching the time on my phone, waiting for sunrise and for a nurse to come tell us when Ben would be taken into surgery.

Just as dawn began to break, footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Thinking it was a nurse, I jumped to my feet.

But when the door opened, it was Ryan.

His face was deathly pale. His eyes were red and swollen, and he was gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

He looked completely hollowed out.

“Dad.”

My chest tightened.

“What time is the surgery?”

Ryan didn’t answer.

He simply handed me his phone.

There was a message from the hospital on the screen.

“Your scheduled procedure has not yet been paid for. Please contact the billing office as soon as possible to avoid a delay in treatment.”

I stared at it.

“That’s impossible! I paid twenty thousand dollars in cash yesterday! They gave me a receipt!”

Furious, Ryan yanked Ben’s hospital card out of his bag and threw it at me.

“I checked Ben’s hospital account myself this morning. The twenty thousand dollars isn’t there!

“This is all because of you! You insisted on having the money credited to this account! If you knew there was something wrong with it, why didn’t you say so? Why did you have to risk delaying Ben’s surgery?”

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from the surgeon.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t wait any longer. The surgery has been canceled. I hope your grandson makes a full recovery.”

From the far end of the hallway came the faint sound of suitcase wheels rolling across the floor.

The sound grew quieter and quieter.

Ryan sank into a crouch and covered his face.

Then he started sobbing.

“Dad, if this delay costs Ben his life, I’ll never forgive you.

“I hate you!”