Chapter 2

That night, after I finished showering and checked my phone, I found the residents' group chat in chaos.

Gloria had posted a long voice message, choking back theatrical sobs.

"I'm just an old woman who came to the city with my grandson. We don't know anyone, and I can't afford a hospital. The medical student next door wouldn't even look at my sick grandson. When did people get so cold-hearted?"

A second message followed right after.

"I get it. He's a university student, and people like us are poor. He studies fancy, important things. Why would lives like ours be worth his time?"

Several neighbors who knew nothing about the situation had already joined in.

"He couldn't spare five minutes?"

"Young people are so selfish these days."

"I heard he studies medicine. He's got no ethics at all."

"Someone like that should be kicked out of school before he hurts anybody."

I stared at the screen, shaking with anger.

I'd barely started typing an explanation when someone removed me from the group.

I opened Gloria's profile and checked her social feed.

Only recent posts were visible, and there was nothing useful.

Her cover image was a generic landscape.

Then I remembered that when Gloria moved in, the neighborhood-services coordinator had asked residents to look out for her because she lived alone. So where had this grandson suddenly come from?

I messaged the coordinator, laid out the situation, and asked whether the office could step in.

Only after I'd sent it did I manage to fall asleep.

The next morning, residents who normally said hi avoided me on my way to campus.

Gloria's messages had probably shaped their opinion.

I let it go, because I knew explanations wouldn't accomplish anything yet.

That afternoon, I came back from class.

A crowd had gathered beside the flower beds near the entrance.

Gloria sat there holding the thin boy. Her eyes were red, her hair was a mess, and she looked deliberately helpless.

Several older women stood around comforting her.

My chest tightened, and I tried to slip past another way.

Gloria spotted me right away.

She jumped up with the child in her arms and rushed toward me.

Then she dropped to her knees.

The impact against the concrete made a dull thud.

"Young man, I'm begging you! Save my grandson!"

Everyone around us froze.

Every face turned toward me.

My mind buzzed, and I instinctively stepped back. "Mrs. Vance, please get up. Don't do this."

Gloria stayed on her knees and clutched the child tighter. Her voice sounded almost convincingly desperate. "My grandson's had diarrhea all day. His face has gone white, and he just threw up. I can't afford a doctor. Please, have some mercy, take a look at him, and prescribe something. I'm begging you!"

She clasped her hands together and shook them at me, pleading.

She never actually let a tear fall, but the performance was convincing.

Someone in the crowd spoke up. "Just help her. Look at that poor child."

"We all live here. It's a simple favor."

"She's on her knees in front of you. Refusing now is heartless."