Chapter 5 - Freezing the Well
The raid on the Carter home was swift and clinical. The FBI agents didn't just arrest Janet; they brought a federal seizure warrant for the blue Mustang. Brandon watched in tears as his dream car was hooked up to a flatbed tow truck and driven away under the watchful eyes of the news cameras.
Janet was led out in handcuffs, a coat draped over her wrists to hide the steel rings, her face pressed down to avoid the flashing cameras of the local press.
Back at the hospital, my recovery was progressing beautifully. Dr. Lawson walked into my room on Thursday morning with a bright smile on his face.
"Good news, Emily," Dr. Lawson said, checking my vitals. "Your tumor markers have dropped significantly. The surgery did exactly what we needed it to do. Your body is ready."
"Ready for the clinical trial?" I asked, a spark of hope igniting in my chest.
"Yes," he nodded. "But we have one final hurdle. The entry fee for the specialized pharmaceutical trial is forty thousand dollars, and it has to be paid to the research foundation by next Tuesday to lock in your spot. I know Mr. Sterling is working on recovering your funds, but federal asset forfeiture can take months."
My heart sank. The icy numbness returned. Even though my mother was in jail and the car was gone, the money was tied up in legal red tape. I was so close to the finish line, yet completely broke.
"Don't worry about the money, Dr. Lawson," a voice said from the doorway.
Robert Vance, Chloe’s father and the CEO of a major Boston real estate firm, stepped into the room. He was followed by David Sterling and Chloe. Robert walked over to my bed, his face warm and full of paternal kindness.
"Mr. Vance?" I blinked.
"Emily," Robert said, reaching out to pat my hand. "When Chloe told me what those monsters did to you, I couldn't sleep. My company has a charitable foundation. This morning, our board approved a direct, non-repayable medical grant of fifty thousand dollars to be paid directly to Mercy General for your clinical trial."
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Tears finally spilled over my eyelashes, but they weren't tears of grief—they were tears of overwhelming gratitude. "Mr. Vance... I don't know what to say. I can't accept this."
"You can and you will," Robert insisted gently. "The community raised that money for you because you are a wonderful young woman who deserves a long, beautiful life. Consider this an advance. When David recovers the stolen money from your mother's accounts, the foundation will take its portion back, and the rest will belong to you for your recovery. Now, let’s get you into that trial."
