Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked his palms as he considered his options. The hospital had called, apologizing profusely. They offered to cover all of his medical bills. His medical bills? The records contained a terminal diagnosis. A massive payout, enough to secure his children's future. His own, too. He took a long, unsteady breath.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He felt a peculiar pressure building behind his eyes. He imagined the other patient, a nobody, a pauper. He imagined all the wonderful things he could do with the money. The charities he could start. The businesses he could invest in. He'd become a philanthropist.

He reached for the phone, his fingers trembling. He dialed the number for his lawyer.