He reassured me:

"Ma'am, go pay the fees now. We'll keep her stable and contact Dr. Harding to return for the surgery as soon as possible."

"Okay! Thank you!"

I bowed gratefully to Dr. Chavez, then stumbled toward the payment counter.

The POS machine beeped coldly.

Insufficient balance.

I froze. Must've entered the wrong PIN in my panic.

Three tries. Same result.

I opened my banking app.

$0.

My knees buckled. I caught myself on the counter.

"Impossible… there was $500,000 in there!"

I pulled up the transaction history.

One minute ago. $500,000 transferred out.

Recipient: Victoria Summers.

My mind went blank. My whole body shook.

I called Dominic again. This time he picked up fast.

I forced my voice steady: "Dominic. The money in our joint account. Did you transfer it?"

He didn't even hesitate: "Yes."

"I knew you'd try to bribe someone to get my mom bumped up the queue. So I moved it to Victoria for safekeeping—so you wouldn't drag my name through the mud."

I exploded: "Dominic! That's YOUR mother! She's in the ICU waiting for surgery!"

"This is life and death!"

"Transfer the money back NOW, or she will die!"

Victoria's syrupy voice cut in: "Sara, I'm not trying to be rude, but even though your mother-in-law is technically family, you can't just spend your husband's money without boundaries, right? If your mom can't afford treatment, maybe don't hog medical resources."

Blood rushed to my head. "Victoria Summers, you're letting someone die for money!"

Victoria whimpered: "Dominic, she's being so mean to me… but I'm just telling the truth! She doesn't think about you at all—first pressuring you to break hospital rules, now stealing your money… You're so pitiful having a wife like this…"

Dominic's voice turned harsh: "Sara Hughes! Victoria is trying to help. How can you be so vicious? Apologize to her. Now."

My mother-in-law was dying. I didn't have time for this. I swallowed my pride, ready to beg him to transfer the money back—

The nurse kept urging me to pay.

From the phone: "What an act you're putting on."

Click.

I called back. Blocked.

I messaged him on every platform I could think of.

Please, transfer the money back. Your mom needs it for surgery…

Please, come back. That's your own mother…

Read. No reply. Or deleted and blocked.

I slid down the cold wall to the floor, sobbing.

Doctors and nurses rushed past me, shouting that the patient's blood pressure was crashing, that she was in critical danger…

Then I remembered—Harold Harding. Dominic's father. He had to have money.

I called him frantically.

"Dad! Mom was in a car accident. She's in the ICU. Only Dominic can save her, but he won't come back. He won't do the surgery. He even transferred away her life-saving money. Please—just wire me $100,000 first to keep her alive—"

Silence on the other end. Then:

"Sara. Dominic already told me. You wanted to pull strings and have him bump someone for surgery."

"But the hospital has rules. As deputy chief, he has to lead by example—he can't cut the line."

"You're family—you should be thinking of him. You need to avoid any appearance of impropriety…"

I was so anxious my words came out jumbled.

"Fine, fine, fine! Dad! I'll wait in line! But we still need money for the surgery!"

"Please—I'm begging you—transfer me $100,000 so I can pay the fee. Otherwise Mom will die!"

The only response was a cold, indifferent voice:

"Sara, our family is not a piggy bank for your parents to drain."

I shouted, "It's not my mom! It's my mother-in-law—Dominic's real mom, your wife!"

"If you don't believe me, come to the hospital and see for yourself! Please!"

Mr. Harding Sr. snorted coldly. "At this hour, Paige is definitely out doing her square dancing."

"Don't think you can scam my money to subsidize your family!"

My heart plunged into an ice pit.

I sank onto the freezing floor, hugging my knees, crying helplessly.

At that moment, a nurse approached the doctor, her expression grim.

"Deputy Chief Harding called. He said if this patient can't pay, move her to a hallway bed."

"Or have them transfer to another hospital."

"She absolutely cannot receive special treatment just because she's family—can't take up medical resources…"

Dr. Chavez's face went livid. "How is this special treatment? The patient is critical—she doesn't meet the conditions for transfer."

"If she's moved to a hallway bed, she will die!"

Hearing that, I nearly broke down.

I scrambled up, stumbling forward, grabbed Dr. Chavez's arm, and begged desperately—

"Please, give me a little more time. I will pay the money and wait in line for Dominic to come back and do the surgery!"

Collapsed on the floor, my mind went blank.

The thought that my mother-in-law's life hung by a thread—that her own son, just to avoid any appearance of impropriety, would rather operate on a dog than save her—

made my heart feel like it was being carved with a knife.

No. He wasn't avoiding impropriety.

He just thought it was my mom.

In their eyes, my mom wasn't worthy.

But that was a human life! I had to find a way to save her!

I called my mom to borrow money.

My dad died young. My mom raised me alone, ruining her health from the strain. Now she survived on a meager pension, occasionally doing odd jobs to help with expenses.

The moment she heard my mother-in-law needed money, she didn't hesitate—just transferred everything immediately.

Seeing the amount—$31,800, down to the last dollar—my chest ached.

That money was probably everything she'd saved over years.

Then, swallowing my pride, I borrowed from coworkers, classmates, friends—anyone I could—barely scraping together $100,000.

After paying the first installment, I rushed the receipt to the doctor.

"Dr. Chavez, I've paid. Please arrange the surgery as soon as possible."

"No need to cut the line—just follow the process and queue up!"

Dr. Chavez quickly called a nurse to verify the queue and prepare the OR.

She came back with a grim expression.

"Dr. Harding still refuses to come back. He said… even for family, he has to strictly follow rules and regulations, avoid any appearance of impropriety—everything goes through proper channels."

Dr. Chavez's voice dropped. "Then how many surgeries are still ahead in line?"

The nurse hesitated, glancing at me.

"Dr. Harding… doesn't have any surgeries scheduled today."

Dr. Chavez's jaw tightened. "Didn't you tell him he has no surgeries arranged?"

The nurse's eyes reddened with frustration. "I did, but Dr. Harding said this patient's family bribed us and deliberately lied to him…"

I almost laughed until I cried.

He kept saying "avoid suspicion, avoid suspicion," told me to follow the process—but I was following the process. He still didn't believe me.

Because of that stupid principle, he was going to deny a patient legitimate medical care.

After five agonizing hours and three emergency resuscitations, Dominic and Victoria finally returned.

He was carrying a dog. She had her arm looped through his like they were on a date.

"Dominic, thank goodness you bandaged my puppy and took her out to play! If she'd been emotionally traumatized, I would've been devastated!"

He tapped her nose indulgently. "You little fool. You're just too kind."

The nurse exhaled in relief and immediately rushed him to prep for surgery.

Victoria pouted. "Dominic, I've never scrubbed in before. I want to learn!"

He smiled, hopelessly indulgent. "Fine, fine. You can assist."

Everything in the OR was ready. Anesthesia had already been administered.

Only then did Dominic stroll toward the operating room, Victoria in tow.

When he saw me, his face hardened.

"Sara. Disgusting."

"You bribed the hospital to cut the line and tricked me into coming back. That's a serious policy violation."

I froze, shaking my head frantically. "I didn't! I waited in line like everyone else!"

The nurse rushed to back me up. "Dr. Harding, this patient really did wait her turn. She didn't cut the line."

His expression darkened further. He rounded on the nurse.

"How much did she pay you to cover for her? This hospital has rules. Everyone who pulls strings thinks they have a special reason. What about the patients who follow the rules? Are their lives worthless?"

I was trembling with fury. "Dominic! I'll say it one more time—I didn't cut in line! I didn't bribe anyone!"

"And the person on that table waiting for you to save her? That's your mother."

His face remained stone cold. "Even if it's my mother, she waits in line. I won't let someone like you corrupt the system."

"Cancel the surgery. Immediately."

The nurse looked ready to cry. "Dr. Harding, the patient is already under anesthesia. If we don't operate now, it'll be too late!"

Only then, in a grand display of mercy, did he agree to proceed.

But to avoid any appearance of favoritism—to prove just how fair and selfless he was—he refused to operate himself.

Instead, he assigned Victoria as the primary surgeon. An intern who had never held a scalpel in an OR. The other doctors would assist.

"Dr. Harding, this... doesn't follow protocol."

His voice went ice cold. "What protocol? This patient used improper means to jump the line and harm other patients. If I operate myself, that would violate protocol."

No one dared to argue.

During the surgery, Victoria kept asking what each instrument was for. She accidentally severed a blood vessel, causing massive hemorrhage. The patient nearly went into cardiac arrest.

Then she nicked the wrong organ, slicing a gash into the lung.

"Oops! I'm so clumsy! I'm so nervous!"

"Oops! Wrong spot again!"

The rest of the team scrambled desperately to clean up her mistakes and keep the patient alive.

If they hadn't been mid-surgery, every single one of them would have dragged her out of that room.