Leo took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through his nose.
He didn’t say a word.
He continued reading.
He read the diagnosis, the complications, the pathetic financial section.
When he finished, he slowly closed the folder, put it back on the table, and looked at me.
His eyes flashed with a mixture of anger, pain and disbelief.
“Is he here?” Leo asked quietly, trembling with suppressed emotion.
“In the waiting room downstairs,” I replied. “With his wife—that Bella.”
Leo snorted cynically.
He stood up and walked to the window, turning his back.
k to me, staring at the city below.
“Stage five kidney failure,” he muttered. “Uncontrolled diabetes. His foot is rotting.”
He turned around with a stern expression.
“You know what he said to me then, Mom? That night he said my leg was disgusting.”
“He said he was ashamed that he had a son who couldn’t walk properly and that now he would lose his own leg.”
“It’s God’s punishment,” I said quietly.
“And he asks for a reduction in the fee?”
Leo jerked his chin at the briefcase.
“He asks for my signature to save his worthless life.”
“That’s right. Without your signature, he won’t get dialysis here. Other hospitals will reject him too because he doesn’t have a deposit.”
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