Feeble Apologies
Those stark white bandages scorched my vision. Tears welled unexpectedly. "I'm sorry..." I whispered, voice thick and broken. "Janet... I'm sorry... truly..." Sobs choked me—overwhelming helplessness and pity for this suffering creature. "Bella... she..." Janet spun away, ignoring me, shoulders heaving with stifled sobs. Her focus locked solely on Bella, that trembling hand still caressing her head—a fragile anchor in the storm.
Humiliating Closure
Only Bella's muffled pain and Janet's soft weeping filled the room. Oppressive air smothered me. Wiping away tears, I drew a breath. Apologies felt worthless, but this tangible damage demanded confrontation. Silently, I slipped out and closed the door. At the front desk, the young nurse waited, holding papers uneasily. "Ma'am..." she started. "The bill," I cut in, voice unnervingly calm. "For Bella's surgery... give it to me. I'll pay." Her gaze held complex pity as she handed over the documents.
Payments and Complicity
Topmost was an "Oak Street Veterinary Hospital" invoice: Patient: Bella Anderson. Procedure: Emergency Spay (Female Canine). At the bottom, under "Responsible Party," scrawled unmistakably: Thomas Wilson. Staring at that signature, nausea churned. Shame coated me like grime. Mechanically, I pulled out my credit card, fingertips icy. "Charge it." I thrust it forward, avoiding the amount. The machine beeped—a mocking echo of my disgrace.
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Those stark white bandages scorched my vision. Tears welled unexpectedly. "I'm sorry..." I whispered, voice thick and broken. "Janet... I'm sorry... truly..." Sobs choked me—overwhelming helplessness and pity for this suffering creature. "Bella... she..." Janet spun away, ignoring me, shoulders heaving with stifled sobs. Her focus locked solely on Bella, that trembling hand still caressing her head—a fragile anchor in the storm.
Humiliating Closure
Only Bella's muffled pain and Janet's soft weeping filled the room. Oppressive air smothered me. Wiping away tears, I drew a breath. Apologies felt worthless, but this tangible damage demanded confrontation. Silently, I slipped out and closed the door. At the front desk, the young nurse waited, holding papers uneasily. "Ma'am..." she started. "The bill," I cut in, voice unnervingly calm. "For Bella's surgery... give it to me. I'll pay." Her gaze held complex pity as she handed over the documents.
Payments and Complicity
Topmost was an "Oak Street Veterinary Hospital" invoice: Patient: Bella Anderson. Procedure: Emergency Spay (Female Canine). At the bottom, under "Responsible Party," scrawled unmistakably: Thomas Wilson. Staring at that signature, nausea churned. Shame coated me like grime. Mechanically, I pulled out my credit card, fingertips icy. "Charge it." I thrust it forward, avoiding the amount. The machine beeped—a mocking echo of my disgrace.
NEXT >>
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