Eleven Years All to the Wrong Man novel Chapter 286

It was only then that Melissa snapped out of it. Forgetting about the mess on the floor, she scrambled to her feet, covered her face, and ran out of the room.

Over the past week, not a moment had passed when she wasn't thinking about Evan. She had imagined their next meeting in countless scenarios, but never one like this—a disheveled, completely unexpected morning.

Her cheap canvas shoes, now soaked, squeaked with every step. Melissa had just run out of the room when she suddenly stopped.

Because of the sound her shoes were making, several patients and family members in the hallway had turned to look at her with scrutinizing gazes.

What Melissa hated most were those looks of disdain and condescension.

Only middle-class or wealthier families could afford the high medical costs at St. Aurelia Private Medical Center. Melissa knew that without Evan, she would have never been able to get her father into such a fine hospital.

Because of that, in the week after she had completely lost contact with Evan, she had begun to feel the chasm between herself and the other people in the hospital—the feeling of being completely out of place.

They were all well-dressed. Though they might be tired and pained by illness, they never had to face the terror of not being able to pay the next bill.

And her? After leaving Evan, she was back in her old, faded sweaters, carrying a ten-dollar bucket, looking like a clumsy janitor who had wandered into a high-end establishment.

Their stares pricked at her like tiny, invisible needles.

Even though they said nothing, their gazes only lingering on her for a second before quickly moving away, Melissa still felt a deep sense of discomfort, as if her skin was crawling.

The nurses came to her room at least three times a day to ask for payment, and her father was still in a coma. She only had thirty thousand dollars to her name, so every day, when the nurse came for the last time, she would pay six thousand dollars, just to keep things going.

Lying on the cold cot late at night, she missed Evan terribly. One night, unable to bear it anymore, she had sent him a message, only to regret it a minute later and frantically delete it, feeling as pathetic and cowardly as a thief.

Seeing a man and a woman in the middle of the hallway, a small crowd had begun to gather, their eyes filled with curiosity.

Seeing the impeccably dressed, distinguished man standing with a young girl in a cheap, pilling sweater, people began to whisper among themselves.

Melissa was trembling, whether from the cold or from crying.