Grandpa's Nursing Home Abused Him, Now The Negligence Settlement Is My Wedding Gift

Tomorrow came and went. Sarah didn’t showing up. Her phone was disconnected. When Julian drove by her apartment, the landlord said she’d moved out in a hurry—something about a sudden cash windfall and a new start in another state.

Thorne had gotten to her.

Elena stood in the sterile hallway of the county hospital, staring through the glass. The heart monitor beeped a slow, rhythmic dirge. Arthur Vance had slipped into a coma overnight. The stroke damage, compounded by the chemical sedatives, had been too much for his frail body.

“Doctor says it’s a coin toss if he wakes up,” Elena said, her voice devoid of hope. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. “I failed him, Julian. I tried to fight a billionaire with a library card.”

She walked out to the parking lot, the weight of the potential coma wrongful death lawsuit crushing her chest. She climbed into her rusted sedan and just sat there. She didn’t have the gas money to drive home, and she didn’t have the will to start the engine.

The passenger door opened. Julian slid in, bringing a gust of rain and the smell of cheap bodega coffee. He handed her a steaming cup.

“Drink,” he commanded gently.

“It’s over,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “Sarah’s gone. Grandpa is dying. I have negative twelve dollars in my checking account.”

“Sarah was the easy way,” Julian said, his voice hard. He pulled a stack of papers from his coat pocket. They were crinkled, covered in highlighter. “But while I was waiting for her, I started running the forensic accounting investigation on the public tax filings for Golden Horizons.”

Elena looked up, mascara streaking her pale cheeks.

“We don’t need Sarah,” Julian said, a dangerous spark lighting his eyes. “I found something better in the financial records. Thorne isn’t just hurting people. He’s stealing from the government.”