When I walked into the ward, my father was wrapped in layers of bandages, both legs shattered, even his breathing trembling.
I almost collapsed from the pain in my chest.
Others in the room murmured complaints.
“A person like that is vicious. Injuring himself just to fake an accident.”
“He better not try to extort us. Tell them to get out.”
I tried desperately to explain, but no one wanted to believe me.
My father listened to their words, shaking with anger as he pounded the bed.
He had spent his whole life helping others, yet he was being insulted like this, all because he trusted the wrong person.
He looked at me with hopeless eyes.
“I treated Caleb like a son. He has never been wronged in his life. Why would he help others hurt me? What did I do wrong?”
I could no longer hold back. Tears streamed down my face.
But the people around us kept mocking.
“You are all vicious. This is the retribution you deserve.”
More and more people crowded around the door, throwing filthy and hateful looks at us.
I could not bear to let my father suffer another second. I decided to discharge him.
But when the doctor brought the bill, I froze completely.