Cynthia looked at me with indifference. "Liam, have you lost your mind? In this day and age, if you don't have some connections, which doctor is going to take you seriously at the hospital? If it weren't for our past relationship, we wouldn't even have the chance to know someone like Eric!"
Her argument was too solid for me to counter.
But when my dad suffered a brain hemorrhage and was hospitalized, the usually proactive Cynthia fell silent.
I tentatively suggested she ask Eric for help in reviewing the scans, but she quickly grew impatient.
"Liam, aren't you making things difficult? Eric is a massage therapist; he can't possibly look at brain scans!"
"Cynthia, didn't you say Eric was doing well at the hospital? Can't he help find someone who can?" I nearly begged her, thinking of my father's condition.
"Ugh, are you annoying me? Eric hasn't graduated yet; he wouldn't dare ask those big-shot doctors for favors. Just take a leave and go home to find a doctor there!" Cynthia's tone was icy, her refusal unwavering.
I turned over in frustration.
She claimed Eric wasn't a cardiologist, so he wouldn't help with my dad's scans.