"You," he breathes.
"She needed the scan," I say, shrugging. "I expedited the process."
"You... you can't just..." He sputters. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you could be in? That is fraud! That is nepotism! That is..."
"Effective?" I suggest.
He stares at me. His chest is heaving. He looks furious. But under the fury, there is something else. Relief.
Mrs. Gable is going to live.
He runs a hand down his face. He lets out a long, shaky breath.
"You are a nightmare," he says softly. "You are an entitled, reckless, arrogant nightmare."
"And you," I say, leaning closer, "are welcome."
He looks at me. For a second, the air between us feels thick. Charged.
Then Mama Ortiz crumples up her foil wrapper.
"Kiss him or hit him, Lucas," she says without looking up. "But make a choice, you’re blocking my view of the monitor."
Lucas jumps back like he’s been scalded. His ears turn a delightful shade of pink.
"I—I have to go check on the patient," he stammers. "To make sure Foster doesn't crash the wheelchair into a sconce."
He turns and marches away. But before he turns the corner, he looks back. Just for a second.
He isn't scowling. He looks... confused.
"He likes you," Mama Ortiz observes, picking up her pen.
"He hates me," I correct.
"Thin line, baby," she says. "Thin line. Now go answer the call light in 4. And York?"
"Yes, Mama?"
"Next time you use the magic credit card? Get me a new chair. This one squeaks."
I grin.
"Consider it done."
Later That Night
The Platinum Suite is ridiculous. It has velvet curtains, a view of Central Park, and a mini-fridge stocked with sparkling cider.
Mrs. Gable is sleeping soundly. The scan was clear—well, clear of confusion. Itisa tumor, but it’s operable. Small. Caught just in time.
I am standing in the doorway, watching the vitals monitor, when I sense a presence next to me.
Lucas is leaning against the doorframe. He has changed out of his dirty scrubs into clean ones. He looks tired, but the desperate edge is gone.
"You know," he says quietly, keeping his voice low so he doesn't wake her. "You can't save everyone with money, York."
"I know," I say, looking at Mrs. Gable. "But I can save her."
