Chapter 7 - THE NIGHT WE ALMOST LOST HER
By the time I reached the hospital, Paige was shivering beneath heated blankets while nurses moved with frightening speed. Her immune system had crashed after treatment, leaving her vulnerable to infection.
Dr. Morris explained the plan without softening it. Antibiotics, fluids, monitoring, and blood support had begun, but the next several hours mattered.
I sat beside Paige holding a hand that felt both hot and fragile. She opened her eyes long enough to ask whether Susan knew.
I said no. Paige surprised me by asking to call her anyway. She did not want an apology. She wanted Susan to hear what illness sounded like without money standing nearby.
I dialed from my phone and put the call on speaker. Susan answered cautiously, then changed tone when she heard machines in the background.
Paige told her she had a fever and doctors were worried. Susan became quiet. Then she asked whether I had already signed any settlement documents.
The question hung there between heart monitor beeps. Paige closed her eyes. I ended the call without answering.
Something inside her changed after that. She stopped wondering whether cruelty had been a misunderstanding. The woman who raised me had chosen money even during a medical crisis.
Paige's fever climbed through the night before finally beginning to fall near dawn. Dr. Morris said the antibiotics were working, but treatment would pause until her counts recovered.
I slept with my forehead against the side of the mattress. When I woke, Marcus was standing in the doorway holding coffee and an expression I recognized as bad news.
Greg had attempted to move vehicles and equipment out of the auto shop after receiving the lender's investigation notice. The lender believed he was trying to place assets beyond reach.
Investigators had also discovered altered invoices showing purchases labeled medical transportation that were actually performance parts and detailing equipment.
Marcus said the prosecutor's office had requested documentation. Nothing guaranteed charges, but the matter had moved beyond a private financial dispute.
Paige heard enough to ask whether we had caused this. Marcus answered carefully. Records caused it. Forged signatures caused it. Their choices caused it.
Later that afternoon, Susan arrived at the hospital unannounced. Security stopped her until Paige decided whether she wanted contact.
Paige looked at me, then asked for five minutes with both of us present. Her voice was weak, but the decision was hers.
Susan entered without the hummingbird necklace. She wore no makeup and looked older than she had one week earlier.
For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then Susan said she never expected things to become this serious. Paige replied that cancer had been serious from the beginning.
Susan insisted she had been scared about money. Greg needed help. The house required repairs. She believed Paige might die despite treatment and thought spending everything on doctors could leave the family ruined.
I asked why she told me Paige was fine. Susan said she feared I would return from Canada and lose the job that supported everyone.
That explanation contained enough logic to sound almost reasonable until Paige asked why she had been forced into the shed.
Susan looked away. She said arguments got out of control. Greg became angry. Paige became difficult. Nobody intended for the arrangement to last.
Paige asked about the necklace. Susan reached into her purse and placed it on the blanket. The little gold hummingbird looked absurdly delicate against white hospital sheets.
Then Paige asked about the blank signatures. Susan began crying and said Greg handled most paperwork. She admitted photographing some pages but claimed she did not understand what he later created.
I wanted to believe that distinction. She was my mother. Part of me still searched for a door through which she could become the woman I remembered.
Marcus had warned me that confession often arrived mixed with minimization. People admitted whatever evidence already proved while hiding the part still uncertain.
Paige told Susan she was not asking for excuses. She wanted one truthful answer. Did Susan ever use money clearly intended for cancer treatment to buy something for herself?
Susan stared at the floor for a long time. Then she whispered yes. She had used twenty thousand dollars toward the SUV and home renovations.
The admission did not feel triumphant. It felt like watching a building collapse after hoping one wall might still be sound.
Security escorted Susan out when the five minutes ended. Paige held the hummingbird necklace and cried silently until exhaustion pulled her asleep.
May you like
That night, her fever stayed down. The doctors called it progress. I sat in the darkness and understood recovery could begin while grief remained.
Just before midnight, Marcus received another message from Greg. This one contained no offer. It contained a threat to reveal something about my years in Calgary if I continued.
