Chapter 2 - The Ghost in the Hospital Ledger
The midnight air on Orchard Street tasted of sulfur, wet asphalt, and the metallic tang of an approaching winter.
Bella counted four thousand two hundred dollars under the flickering fluorescent bulb of her tiny kitchen.
The bills lay in neat, orderly rows next to a half-empty box of generic tea bags and Marco’s worn leather inhaler.
Her hands had stopped shaking an hour ago, but the cold weight of Moretti’s wrist still felt burned into the palm of her right hand.
She shoved the money into an unmarked bank deposit envelope and tucked it deep inside her canvas shoulder bag.
In the tiny bedroom down the hall, Marco was sitting propped up against two thin pillows, sketching an elaborate bridge on lined notebook paper.
He looked far too small for a nine-year-old boy, with dark purple shadows bruised deeply beneath his hazel eyes.
""You're home late, Bella,"" Marco said, his voice whistling slightly on the intake of breath.
""The dining room was busy tonight, buddy, but I made enough to pay Dr. Campbell's clinic for the month.""
She sat on the edge of his mattress, brushing a damp lock of dark hair away from his feverish forehead.
""Did that scary man come back to the restaurant?"" Marco asked, staring at her apron where the faint scent of Moretti’s sandalwood cologne still lingered.
""No one you need to worry about, Marco.""
She kissed his forehead, waited until his shallow breathing settled into sleep, and then lay awake on the living room sofa until dawn broke over the city.
At eight in the morning, Bella stood in the sterile, beige administration office of the St. Jude Pediatric Specialty Clinic.
Mrs. Gable, the head billing coordinator, adjusted her thick spectacles and stared down at the green computer screen with an expression of pinched discomfort.
""I have the cash right here, Mrs. Gable,"" Bella said, placing the envelope firmly on the laminate counter.
""That should cover Marco's infusion therapy for October and keep his name active on the regional trial registry.""
The older woman did not reach for the envelope; instead, she folded her hands and let out a tired, rehearsed sigh.
""I’m sorry, Miss Rossi, but the situation regarding your brother’s account changed late yesterday afternoon.""
A sharp knot of dread twisted immediately in the pit of Bella’s stomach.
""What do you mean it changed?""
""A private debt collection agency purchased your father’s outstanding medical obligations from four years ago.""
""My father died four years ago, Mrs. Gable, and those debts were supposed to be discharged under the municipal hospital settlement.""
""Under normal circumstances, yes,"" Mrs. Gable replied, sliding a printed memo across the counter.
""However, this corporate entity filed an emergency lien against your family's estate, which effectively freezes Marco's trial clearance until the full balance is resolved.""
Bella looked down at the paper and saw the corporate name stamped in sharp black ink: Apex Harbor Logistics.
The outstanding sum listed at the bottom was sixty-two thousand dollars.
""This is an administrative death sentence for my brother,"" Bella whispered, her voice dropping into a dangerous register.
""The clinic has no choice, Isabella; our board cannot administer forty-thousand-dollar experimental treatments to accounts currently in active litigation.""
Bella gathered the papers with trembling fingers, turned around, and walked through the sliding glass doors into the biting morning wind.
She stood on the sidewalk of Michigan Avenue, watching the yellow cabs rush past while her world collapsed around her shoulders.
A sleek black town car pulled smoothly against the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the grey, overcast sky.
The rear passenger door swung open immediately.
Vincenzo Gallo stepped onto the pavement, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his dark overcoat.
""Get in the car, Miss Rossi,"" Gallo said, his voice flat and completely devoid of warmth.
""I am not going anywhere with you,"" Bella said, clutching her canvas bag tightly against her chest.
""Mr. Moretti knew you would visit the clinic this morning,"" Gallo said, stepping aside to reveal the empty leather interior.
""And he also knows that your brother doesn't have sixty days left if he misses next Tuesday's trial injection.""
Bella felt the blood drain from her face as the puzzle pieces slammed violently together in her mind.
""He did this,"" she said, her nails digging into her palms.
""He put that lien on my brother's chart to punish me for touching him.""
""Mr. Moretti doesn't use sick children to settle personal scores, Miss Rossi,"" Gallo replied with a cold sneer.
""If you want to save your brother's life, you will sit in the back of this car and listen to what the boss has to say.""
May you like
Bella looked back at the glass doors of the pediatric hospital, thinking of Marco’s drawing of the bridge sitting on his bedside table.
Without another word, she stepped into the leather interior of the town car and pulled the door shut behind her.
