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Chapter 5 Raising Money for Medical Expenses

But soon, reality slapped me in the face. After getting back home, Beckett and I took a hard look at what we had.

We were just an ordinary family. Beckett and Tammy both worked regular jobs, earning every penny the hard way.

Over the years, they managed to save up five hundred grand by pinching pennies. But even that wasn't nearly enough for Tammy's ongoing treatment and rehab. If we sold the house, we might just scrape by.

Beckett choked up, "Kathie, I'm sorry. This money was supposed to be for you, but now it's all gone."

Seeing Beckett's graying hair, I felt tears welling up. Back in my room, I punched myself hard, twice.

If I hadn't insisted on competing with that jerk Joseph to get back at him, I wouldn't have blown all my savings.

Now, we had to sell the house to pay for Tammy's treatment, leaving us homeless. On top of that, I'd also lost my job, and the most pressing thing now was to find work fast to support the family.

The next morning, I started blasting out resumes, but after half a day, all I got were rejection emails.

I rubbed my head in frustration. This wasn't working; I couldn't just sit at home. I needed to start making money, and fast.

In the end, I decided to take a part-time gig as a waitress at a nearby restaurant while I kept sending out resumes.

Honestly, being the only daughter in my family, I'd been pretty spoiled growing up.

My first day as a waitress, I was a bit worried about my pride. When it came time to check out, a customer chewed me out for being too slow.

Tears stung my eyes, but all I could do was bow my head and apologize over and over.

After barely making it through the day, I rushed home to pack some clean clothes for Tammy before visiting hours ended.

When I got home, the place was dark, no lights on. I called out for Beckett, but got no answer.

A sense of dread filled me. I turned on the lights and searched everywhere, but there was no sign of Beckett.

This was weird. Beckett had said he'd come home after work. He usually finished at five, so he should've been home by now.

I pulled out my phone and called Beckett several times, but no one picked up. My gut told me something had happened to Beckett!

I didn't even bother putting on shoes and ran out of the house barefoot, following Beckett's usual route home from work.

About 900 feet from home, at the entrance of an alley, I saw a crowd and an ambulance.

Through the crowd, I could barely make out a middle-aged man lying on the ground, not moving, looking seriously hurt.

I felt the blood drain from my face as I walked dazedly towards the alley entrance.

A nurse stopped me, "Hey, ma'am, the doctor is treating the patient. Please wait!"

I opened my mouth and forced out the words, "Can I take a look? This is the way my dad comes home, but he hasn't come back yet today."

The nurse looked back, and seeing the doctor nod, she let me through.

I walked up to the man on the ground, squatted down, and with trembling hands, looked at his face.

Everything around me seemed to freeze. It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe.

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