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My Mother Called Me a Thief While My Brother Was Dying Novel Cover

My Mother Called Me a Thief While My Brother Was Dying

Rushing to perform emergency surgery on a boy with a severed trachea, a dedicated surgeon is suddenly stopped. At a mall, their own mother accuses them of stealing gold, prompting security to lock them away. Subjected to a brutal search, the desperate doctor begs to leave and save the patient. When they attempt to escape, their mother violently breaks their arm, ending their medical career. Only then does the devastating truth arrive: the dying boy waiting on the operating table is her own son.
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Chapter 3

As I passed my mother, she didn't look at me. She smoothed the hem of her blouse, the corner of her mouth curled upward.

"If only you'd listened before, we wouldn't be here now..."

So this really was retaliation.

Inside the security office, someone held out a cup of cloudy liquid.

"Drink it. Should take about half an hour to kick in."

I stepped back until my spine hit the wall. "I'm not drinking that!"

Two guards moved in, flanking me on either side.

"Ms. Fox, don't make us do this the hard way."

"You wouldn't dare!"

The two guards closed in and seized my arms, one on each side.

I thrashed against their grip.

That was when my phone rang. A colleague from the hospital.

"Let me answer it! That child might not make it..."

The guards hesitated.

My mother lunged forward, pinning my hand down, and killed the call. "Answer what? Trying to call someone to bail you out?"

"Don't pull that crap with me!"

But I'd already wrenched one hand free and snatched the phone back.

The screen lit up with a photo from Dr. James.

I tapped it open, and everything inside me went still.

The person lying on the operating table, waiting to die, was my brother.

I turned around and dropped to my knees. The impact jolted through my bones.

"Mom! The patient, it's Hal Fox!"

It hit me then. That morning at breakfast, my brother had told me something.

He was going to spend the weekend hauling bricks at a construction site so he could buy Mom a birthday present. He'd made me promise not to tell.

And the hospital had said the boy was injured at a construction site.

The age matched too.

My mother blinked, then her brow furrowed.

"What did you just say?"

I held the phone up to her face.

"The hospital sent this photo. The person whose trachea was severed by falling glass at the construction site, the one waiting for me to operate, it's Hal!"

She glanced down at the screen, then slapped the phone out of my hand.

"Bullshit! Your brother's at home playing video games! I saw him this morning!"

"You faked this photo!"

"Mom, just call him! Please, I'm begging you!"

I was on my knees, fists clenched around the fabric of her pants.

"Hal is really hurt! I have to get to the hospital in fifteen minutes! Any later and it'll be too late!"

"Get off me!" She kicked my hands away.

"You'd curse your own brother just to wriggle out of this? Are you even human?!"

"Mom! I'm not lying!"

Tears blurred my vision, streaking hot down my face. "Let me go to the hospital! You'll see for yourself when we get there! If Hal's fine, you can drag me back and do whatever you want to me!"

A few bystanders nearby started whispering among themselves.

"That girl's crying for real..."

"What if it actually is her brother?"

My mother's expression shifted. She whipped around and pointed at them. "What do you people know? This girl's been a liar since she was little!"

"Now she's cursing her own brother just to get away! I've been too soft on her!"

She turned and glared at the guards.

"What are you standing around for? Take her to drink the medicine! If the gold doesn't come out, that's on you!"

Captain Paulson waved his hand.

"Take her."

Two guards hauled me up off the floor.

I twisted around, straining against them.

"Mom! I'm begging you! You're going to get him killed!"

My mother stood where she was, arms folded across her chest, eyes cold as glass.

"Go on. Keep acting. Let's see how long you can keep this up."

The guards shoved me into a chair and pushed the cup in front of me.

"Quit stalling. You drinking it yourself, or are we pouring it down your throat?"

I drew a long breath.

"Do you have any idea that if that patient dies, you'll be held responsible? What you're doing right now is killing someone."

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