Chapter 7 - Eleven Thousand Dollars
Delaney did not sleep.
She sat at her kitchen table until sunrise with every hospital bill she had saved spread around her.
There were forty-three envelopes.
Some white.
Some yellow.
Several stamped FINAL NOTICE.
She had never considered where the debt went after Mercy General transferred it to collections.
She only knew the calls changed.
The voices got colder.
The fees grew.
The balance barely moved.
At eight, Damon knocked.
Not Frank.
Not a guard.
Damon.
Delaney opened the door wearing sweatpants and one sock.
"You cannot keep appearing at my apartment."
"I called."
"My phone is on silent."
"I noticed."
He looked at the table.
"So that's it."
"That's what?"
"The debt."
She bristled.
"Do not say it like it's a criminal exhibit."
"I didn't."
"You thought it."
"I thought someone used your mother's death to trap you in a collection system my uncle profits from."
That stopped her.
Damon entered only after she stepped aside.
He picked up nothing.
Good choice.
"I spoke with counsel."
"About my bills?"
"About North Cross."
"Same thing."
"No. Your bills are evidence of a larger pattern."
Delaney sank into the chair.
"What pattern?"
"North Cross buys distressed medical debt through three hospital networks. Then fees are added through related servicing companies."
"Legal?"
"Some of it. Some of it doesn't look legal."
"How many people?"
"Thousands."
Delaney laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
"Of course."
Damon sat opposite her.
"I can pay yours today."
"No."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
She looked at him.
"Then why say it?"
"Because I need you to understand the option exists, even if you refuse it."
"I don't want to be bought."
"I know."
"And I don't want to be the lucky poor woman who met the right rich man."
"I know."
"What do you want?"
Damon looked at the bills.
"To destroy the system legally."
Delaney stared.
"That sounded almost wholesome."
"Don't spread it around."
She almost smiled.
His lawyer's plan was complicated.
Report the suspected abusive collection practices.
Freeze certain accounts if justified.
Audit fees.
Create a restitution process if wrongdoing were established.
It would take time.
Delaney hated that.
"People are being sued now."
"I know."
"Cars repossessed now."
"I know."
"Then time is expensive."
Damon nodded.
"That's why my family foundation will fund independent legal aid immediately."
She stared.
"Your family has a foundation?"
"My mother does."
"Of course she does."
"It hasn't been used well."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning my uncle chaired it."
There it was again.
Vincent.
His fingerprints were everywhere without ever touching the surface.
Delaney rubbed her eyes.
"My mom used to say rich people make simple things complicated so they can charge poor people for not understanding."
Damon's mouth moved.
"I would've liked her."
"You would've terrified her."
"Also possible."
At noon, Delaney returned to Lake Forest.
Teresa was clearer than she had been in days.
She sat by the window reviewing papers with reading glasses low on her nose.
"You look tired," she told Delaney.
"I am."
"Good. Sit."
Delaney sat.
Teresa pushed a folder across the table.
"What is this?"
"Foundation records."
"Damon told you?"
"No. Frank did."
Delaney opened the folder.
North Cross donations.
Patient assistance grants.
Administrative contracts.
A pattern emerged.
The Bianchi Foundation donated money to hospitals for patient relief.
North Cross later purchased unpaid accounts from those same hospitals.
Related companies collected fees.
Vincent profited on both sides.
"That's disgusting."
Teresa's face hardened.
"My husband created the foundation after Damon was born premature. We almost lost him because the hospital had one specialist who stayed through the night."
Delaney looked toward the door.
"Damon was premature?"
"Three pounds, eight ounces."
"Does he know you tell people?"
"No."
"I suddenly respect you more."
Teresa smiled.
Then her face darkened again.
"Vincent turned mercy into business."
"Can you remove him?"
"I could have."
"Could?"
Teresa tapped her temple.
"He started arguing I was incompetent last year."
Delaney understood.
The altered medication.
The wandering.
The guardianship trust.
Vincent needed Teresa unreliable enough that any attempt to remove him looked like confusion.
"Then we prove you're not incompetent."
Teresa laughed.
"Child, some mornings I ask what year it is."
"Capacity isn't the same as perfect memory."
Teresa studied her.
"You sound like an attorney."
"I sound like a woman who had to learn medical paperwork while sleeping in waiting rooms."
Damon entered with Frank.
"We have a problem."
Delaney looked at him.
"Only one?"
"Vincent filed an emergency petition this morning."
Teresa's face went still.
"For guardianship?"
"Partial financial guardianship and temporary voting proxy."
Frank handed over copies.
The filing claimed Teresa's disappearance proved dangerous cognitive decline.
It cited the alley incident.
It cited medication confusion.
It even cited Delaney.
"What about me?"
Damon pointed.
"An unlicensed restaurant employee allegedly assumed control over my mother during a vulnerable episode."
Delaney stared.
"I gave her soup."
"Apparently criminal soup."
Teresa slammed the folder closed.
"Good."
Everyone looked at her.
"Good?"
She smiled.
"They finally put the lie in writing."
Damon understood first.
"Discovery."
Teresa nodded.
"If Vincent wants a court to examine my mind, the court can also examine who changed my medicine."
Frank almost smiled.
Delaney looked between them.
"You people get excited about lawsuits."
"It's a family weakness," Teresa said.
The hearing was scheduled quickly because Vincent alleged immediate risk.
His attorneys expected a frightened old woman and a dangerous son.
Instead, Teresa arrived in navy wool with Delaney at her side and three independent doctors' reports.
The judge ordered a neutral cognitive evaluation.
She also ordered pharmacy and medication records preserved.
Vincent's attorneys objected.
The judge did not care.
For the first time, Delaney watched powerful people discover that courtrooms had their own rules.
Outside, reporters shouted questions.
Damon moved to shield Teresa.
Delaney stayed behind.
A man stepped close.
Too close.
"Miss Whitfield."
She turned.
He wore a press badge.
But she recognized him.
One of the men who had come to Bellucci's asking about her.
He leaned in.
"Vincent says hello."
Delaney stepped back.
The man smiled.
"Your mother did not die owing eleven thousand dollars."
Her blood went cold.
"What?"
"She died owing nothing."
Then he disappeared into the crowd.
Delaney stood frozen.
Damon turned.
"What happened?"
May you like
She looked at him.
"My debt isn't real."
