# Chloe Pierce's POV
The hospital waiting room smells like disinfectant and despair. I've been sitting in this plastic chair for six hours, watching families come and go. Some leave with smiles. Others leave with tears.
I don't know which category I'll fall into.
The financial counselor's words keep echoing in my head. Seven hundred thousand yuan. Owen's surgery was successful, but the bill might as well be a death sentence for our family's finances.
I sold my car for eighty thousand. The banks wouldn't even look at my loan applications. I have maybe fifteen thousand in savings, and that won't even cover the medication he'll need during recovery.
My phone buzzes from somewhere in the trash bin outside. I threw it away because I couldn't stand seeing the missed calls from work anymore. What's the point of explaining? I can't focus on marketing campaigns when my brother might die because I can't afford to keep him alive.
"Chloe?"
