Left for Dead Came Back for Everything novel Chapter 143

Riverport Medical Center. Billing department.

Morning was the hospital's busiest time. The registration windows were packed, the queuing machines beeped constantly, and the hallways smelled of bleach and anxiety.

At the billing window, a middle-aged woman in worn clothes was slapping her hands against the counter, her voice piercing through the glass partition!

"My daughter deposited that money! Why won't you let me withdraw it? That's our family's money!"

The female clerk behind the counter had explained it at least five times, her expression morphing from patient to tolerant, and finally to utterly exasperated.

"Ma'am, I will tell you one last time. Funds deposited by family members are strictly for medical expenses and cannot be withdrawn as cash. It's hospital policy, printed in black and white on that notice board right there. Go read it yourself."

"What kind of garbage policy is that?" Miriam slammed her hand on the counter, making the plastic partition rattle. "I can't even touch the money my own daughter put in? You people are bloodsuckers! Robbing us blind!"

"Ma'am, there are people waiting behind you. Please—"

"Waiting, waiting! All you care about is making me wait! My husband is upstairs waiting to get his dressings changed! If we don't have the cash, are you just going to refuse treatment? You're just going to sit back and watch people die!"

The other people in line turned to look. Some frowned, some shook their heads, and a few younger folks discreetly pulled out their phones.

Standing about six feet behind Miriam, Miles hunched his shoulders, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

His hat was pulled low over his brows, his scarf wrapped high over the bridge of his nose, and a pair of sunglasses perched over his face mask.

He was bundled up completely, looking exactly like a fugitive.

Every three or four seconds, he glanced nervously toward the lobby entrance, his legs shaking uncontrollably.

His knees knocked together under his pants.

"Mom," he whispered, leaning close to Miriam's ear, his voice trembling. "Can you hurry up? Those guys said today is the deadline! Do you think I don't want to leave? If they find out I'm at the hospital—"

Before he could finish his sentence.

His gaze swept toward the entrance.

And then, he saw two people.

The automatic glass doors of the hospital lobby slowly slid open.

A gust of cool early autumn wind blew in.

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