Chapter 3

Two days back home, and I saw that Ivor's condition was far worse than I'd imagined.

Every few steps he had to stop and drag in a hard breath, and his right knee especially was swollen up like a rising ball of dough.

I made him tell me what happened, and he only stammered something about slipping on a rainy day.

I ignored his stubborn protests and forced the issue, hiring one of the unlicensed cars in the village to haul him to the city's Second General Hospital.

The corridor outside the orthopedics clinic was packed and loud, thick with the smell of disinfectant and medicated plasters.

The doctor held up the MRI scan they'd just taken, his brow knotted.

"Severe meniscus wear, on top of advanced age-related osteoarthritis."

He tapped the film with his ballpoint pen. "This man can't be climbing slopes or walking rough roads anymore, and definitely no heavy labor. He needs to rest, and the sooner he gets a joint replacement, the better."

I stood at the doctor's desk, my throat gone dry. "Doctor, roughly how much for the surgery?"

"After insurance, you'd be paying about forty thousand out of pocket."

I stood in the corridor holding the payment slip, my hands shaking.

Forty thousand.

I opened my banking app and checked. My salary account had less than three thousand left.

Veronica had been keeping the money tight these past few months, and the truth was, our expenses had been too high.

I took a deep breath and called her.

On the other end, Veronica listened, then went silent for a full minute.

"Theo, do I run a bank? After property fees and car insurance last month, where's the spare money supposed to come from?"

There was anger held down in her voice. "That stepfather of yours has rural health coverage. Can't he get it done back in the county? Does it have to be in the city?"

"The county doesn't have the skill for it. Drag this out any longer and he'll be in a wheelchair."

I lowered my voice, nearly begging. "Ronnie, count it as a loan, okay? I'll take side jobs and pay you back."

I heard her let out a heavy sigh.

Five minutes later, a transfer of fifty thousand came through on my phone.

Right after it, a voice message from her:

"That's a three-year fixed deposit I've been saving without telling you. It was meant for Ethan's overseas study camp next summer. Treat the old man first. Theo, this is the last time."

I gripped the phone, crouched down in the hospital corridor, buried my head against my knees, and cried until I couldn't make a sound.

Once the bill was paid, I went back to the ward.

Ivor was lying in the hospital bed, staring blankly up at the stark white ceiling.

His rough hands clutched the snow-white corner of the blanket, and his eyes were full of that fear and unease of a man who'd become a burden to city folk.

In that moment, I made a decision.

Once he was through the surgery, I would never let him go back to that crumbling brick house, mud everywhere, not even a flush toilet. My uncle's harassment, those wretched living conditions, they'd be the end of him.

For forty-five years, he'd worn himself down to blood and sweat for me.

The year I turned forty-five, I wanted to buy him a home.