When I Stopped Covering for Them

It was eleven at night, and I'd just gotten off at the billing window when Viola Lawrence tagged me in the department group chat.

「Katherine, cover my night shift tomorrow?」

I stared at my phone.

My mom had a follow-up appointment tomorrow morning. I'd spent two weeks getting that slot.

「Sorry, Viola, I can't. I have something tomorrow.」

Her voice message came back fast.

「What could you possibly have going on?」

「You're not married, no kids—what, you go home and sit there by yourself anyway.」

I stared at the screen and said nothing.

She sent another：

「My son has a parent-teacher conference tomorrow night, and my husband's working late.」

「You're young. One night shift won't kill you.」

I swallowed my anger and typed back：「My mom has a follow-up appointment tomorrow. I need to take her.」

The group chat went quiet for a few seconds.

Then Director Abbott jumped in：

「Katherine, Viola really does have a lot on her plate.」

「You're single. You've got flexibility. Use it.」

A second later, Viola again：

「Exactly.」

「You're a single girl with nobody depending on you. Don't be selfish.」

……

My name is Katherine Simmons. I work the billing window at County General Hospital.

The booth is tiny. The problems never stop.

Check-ins, copays, refunds, insurance claims—mess up any one of them and somebody's banging on the glass before you can blink.

Three years on the job, and the thing I dread most is the night shift.

Not because of the hours.

Because at two, three in the morning, the ER wheels someone in, and a family member shoves a payment slip at the window with bloodshot eyes.

Move too slow, and they curse you out.

Ask one extra question, and they break down crying.

The first time Viola asked me to cover a night shift was last winter.

Her kid had a fever, nobody home to watch him. I covered it.

Second time, her mother-in-law fell.

I covered that one too.

After that, the excuses kept multiplying.

Parent-teacher conference. Husband out drinking and nobody to pick him up. Gas company needed access to the apartment.

Sister-in-law visiting from out of town with nobody to show her around.

At first it was once or twice a month.

Then it was every week.

It wasn't like I never pushed back.

But every time I started to say no, she'd fire off a voice message in the group chat.

「Katherine, you're young. One all-nighter's nothing.」

「I'm not your age anymore. I've got the elderly and the kids to deal with.」

And right away, others would pile on.

「Come on, Katherine. Help her out.」

「Viola really does have it rough.」

「You're single. Your time's your own.」

*Single.* The way they used it, that word was a hall pass they could stick on my forehead whenever they needed a favor.

I wasn't without family. My mom lived in the west-side apartment complex.

Rheumatic pain for over a decade, and lately her legs were so swollen she couldn't walk without limping.

She kept putting off getting checked because she didn't want to interfere with my work schedule.

This follow-up appointment had taken me two weeks of trying before I finally locked it down.

Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock. Specialist slot.

I read Director Abbott's message again—*Katherine, you're single. You've got flexibility*—and my fingers stayed frozen over the keyboard for a long time.

I typed back：

「Director Abbott, my mom has a follow-up appointment tomorrow. I really can't switch.」

The chat went quiet for a few seconds.

Then Viola sent a photo of her kid's homework.

「My son has a parent-teacher conference tomorrow. His teacher specifically said a parent has to be there.」

「Katherine, your mom can reschedule. My kid's conference only happens once.」

I stared at those two words—*can reschedule*—and something in my chest locked tight.

My mom's legs had been hurting for three months.

Every morning she braced herself against the wall just to get to the kitchen and heat up a steamed bun.

Whenever I asked if it hurt, she always said the same thing：

「It's nothing. I'll manage.」

But yesterday when I visited, she'd rolled up her pant leg, and her calf was so swollen it looked like it had been stuffed with cotton.