He Took the Fall for Her Lover, So Now He Takes Everything novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Advocate

A woman with a cane at County General gets Joan a surgery slot in three weeks. Lena texts: meet me, alone.

The guards left Cal on the sidewalk outside Ridgway Tower with Gerald's threat still in his ears.

He slept in a plastic chair beside his mother's bed.

At nine the next morning a social worker looked at Joan's chart, then at Cal, and said, "You need Kira."

Kira turned out to be a woman in a gray cardigan who came down the hall with a cane in one hand and a folder in the other.

Her left leg swung a little short with each step, and she did not slow down for it.

She stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Mrs. Bracken," she said. "I'm Kira Tennant, the patient financial advocate. I fight the paperwork so you don't have to."

"Is that a real job?" Joan asked.

"It is the only job where I get to be rude to insurance companies and get paid." Kira sat down in the visitor's chair. "Mr. Bracken, I've read the chart. Two years at Mercy with no treatment. That should never have happened."

"You know my name already," Cal said.

"It's on the chart."

She opened the folder on her knee.

"Here are the rules. I don't talk about before. Mine or yours. You tell me what's true today, and I'll fix what I can."

Cal almost smiled. "That's a short list."

"It's the only one I keep."

She slid a form across the tray table and held out a pen.

Cal took it.

His hand started shaking.

He had not signed anything since the night in the hospital hallway.

The pen shook against the paper, and he could not make it stop.

Kira's hand closed over his, warm and dry, and held it flat on the table.

"Read it first," she said quietly. "Every line. Nobody signs anything in my office that they haven't read."

Cal looked at her.

She let go.

He read all four pages, slowly, while Joan watched him with wet eyes and Kira said nothing.

When he finished, he signed.

"The county covers uninsured patients with no assets," Kira said. "Your mother has none. I'm filing it as an emergency. The cardiac team has a cancellation in three weeks."

"Three weeks," Cal said.

"If she stays calm and stays here."

"I'll be charming," Joan said. "Ask anyone."

Kira almost laughed, and caught it, and stood up.

At the door she turned back.

"Mrs. Bracken, did anyone ever read to you at Mercy?"

"Every Sunday for two years," Joan said. "A girl with a cane, as a matter of fact. She never gave me her name."

"That's nice," Kira said, and her hand tightened on the folder. "I'll go file this."

She was gone before Cal could thank her.

At two o'clock he checked in with his parole officer, a heavy man in a short-sleeved shirt.

The man read the terms off a sheet without looking up.

"Weekly reporting. No drinking. Employment within sixty days. No contact with the victim or her family. Her name is sealed, so you're not going to run into her."

"I don't know who she is."

"Then you'll have no trouble." The officer turned his monitor toward him. "Is this you?"

The video had been posted at midnight.

It showed a rooftop and a gray jacket that did not fit, and Cal's voice saying, "A hundred thousand. For a confession to a hit and run you committed."

Two million views.

The comments scrolled past.

*Who is this man?*

*Look at her face when he says the money.*

*Her hands are shaking. She's lying.*

"You've made yourself famous," the officer said. "Keep your head down. Rich men's lawyers read the comments too."

In the County General lobby, a muted television in the corner showed the same clip with a banner underneath.

*PAROLEE CRASHES DEVELOPER'S ENGAGEMENT, CLAIMS HUSH MONEY*

Kira stood under it with her coffee.

She turned and found the remote on the chair and switched the set off.

"They say anything useful?" Cal asked.

"They said you're the news."

"Is that bad?"

"It means people will help you," Kira said, "and people will come for you. Usually the same week."

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was a number he knew by heart.

*Cal. I saw the video. I'm so sorry about last night, I panicked. Let me make it right. Diner on Detroit Avenue, noon tomorrow. I'll give you what I owe you. Come alone.*

Kira was still looking at him.

"Good news?" she asked.

"My ex," Cal said.

Her face did not change.

"Don't sign anything she hands you," Kira said. "Not without reading every line."

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