The Price of Blood and the Cost of Standing Alone Against Family
He stared at me for a long moment, searching my face for any sign of mercy.
I kept my expression completely blank.
Finally, he turned and walked toward the exit stairs.
The heavy steel door clanged shut behind him.
The sound vibrated through my bones.
I stood alone in the hallway for several minutes.
My heart was hammering against my ribs.
I took a deep breath, smelling the sharp scent of rubbing alcohol and old floor wax.
I needed to see the documents.
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
My fingers were shaking slightly as I unlocked the screen.
I opened my email.
There were three missed calls from Daniel.
Two text messages from Uncle Michael.
I ignored them all.
Instead, I typed in the web address for the primary medical school loan portal.
I tried to log in using my standard personal email, the one I had used for fifteen years.
The screen flashed red.
*Invalid username or password.*
I tried again, thinking of my old residency email.
*Account locked due to multiple failed login attempts.*
My stomach tightened.
Someone had already changed the access details.