Her face flushed with rage; she bared her teeth and handed the chat logs to the police to prove she hadn’t stolen them—that she’d asked for permission. After she spoke, she fainted.
It was critical.
The officers immediately rushed her to the hospital.
I wouldn’t have gone if not for them; they insisted I come along.
Under the doctors’ care, my mother came to; the medical bill, after insurance, was only less than a hundred bucks.
When the nurse came to collect payment, Mom wore a scowl and ordered me, “Go pay now! Do you want to die out of anger here?”
Her precious son just stood by with no intention of paying.
I didn’t soften. “If you want me to split this hundred bucks with you, then pay back the twenty thousand you owe me from your last medical bill. I’m your daughter, sure. But your son isn’t dead! It’s not right that I always pay while he sits back and enjoys himself!”
The officers saw what was going on and made Buck hand over the money.