Nathan was the last to leave the room. He walked over to Melissa and explained the situation. “Our preliminary diagnosis is acute DIC—Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation. It’s a complication. We’ve administered emergency treatment, but your father’s condition is complex. You need to go take care of some paperwork now.”
“Okay… okay…”
Melissa looked at Nathan helplessly, her eyes filled with panic and fear. “So… Mr. Allen, my father… he’s going to be okay, right?”
Nathan’s expression was grim. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you an answer right now.”
With that, he turned and hurried toward the ICU.
Melissa moved toward the billing department on pure instinct.
When the screen at the counter lit up, displaying a long string of numbers next to the words “ICU PREPAYMENT,” the thread of composure she had been holding onto finally snapped.
Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
Beneath it, in smaller print, was a parenthetical note: (This is an estimated minimum amount based on the patient’s condition and treatment plan. The final bill will be adjusted accordingly).
Just the estimated minimum?
What would the actual amount be?
Melissa stared at the screen in a daze, a cold dread creeping through her limbs.
After she and Evan got together, he had offered her a credit card, but she had been too proud to accept it. She felt that her father's illness had already cost him so much, and she didn’t want him to have to cover all their future expenses as well.

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