“Please, Mark,” I begged, grabbing his arm in the hospital hallway. “Just sign the international transfer papers.”
“I won’t sign anything,” Mark hissed, pulling his arm away. “That man is a complete fraud.”
He turned and headed for the elevators, leaving me trembling.
I couldn’t breathe. Arthur had already left, so I called him immediately and begged him to meet me at the cafe across the street.
“He won’t sign the waiver,” I sobbed as Arthur sat down. “He said he’ll take Emma away from me.”
Arthur’s jaw tensed.
“Mark isn’t trying to protect her,” Arthur said softly.
“He’s trying to protect himself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why does he hate you?”
“Have you ever wondered why I ended up starving on that park bench?” Arthur asked.
“You said you lost everything in a terrible accident,” I replied.
“Yes, I did,” Arthur said, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “It was a hit-and-run accident.”
He slid a crumpled old police report across the table to me.
“I was in a coma for a month,” Arthur explained. “The medical bills ruined me.”
