Inwardly, they were congratulating themselves. The text they'd sent James had worked. Their biggest fear was that he'd answer my call, rush to the hospital, and actually spend money saving our daughter.
So when I told them I was broke, they both heaved long, theatrical sighs.
"Well, what can we do?"
"Your mother and I live on our pensions. Every spare dollar already goes toward the household. We can't just pull surgery money out of thin air."
I slumped to the floor.
"Then what do we do?"
"Maybe I should call my parents. They'll have money."
I pulled out my phone.
Silas and Zoe didn't stop me. Instead, they pointed toward the stairwell.
"Go make the call over there. It's too loud here with all these people. We'll talk to the doctor in the meantime, get the full picture."
I nodded and carried my phone to the stairwell.
After I left, the crowd of relatives and friends gathered around Silas and Zoe, offering comfort. Several of them pulled out cash on the spot, pressing it forward to help with the emergency.
Silas and Zoe were all gratitude and graciousness, but they refused every last dollar.
They put on a show of consulting with the doctor, nodding gravely as he explained the situation.