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The head surgeon just found me passed out in a supply closet.
I've been working doubles just to pay off my mother's medical bills.
He carried me to one of the hospital beds, and I woke up wearing a hospital gown with him standing over me.
He checked my pulse and carefully watched the monitors.
Suddenly, my phone lit up on the table with an eviction notice, and he read it slowly.
I told him I had nowhere to live and tried to get out of bed to leave.
But he pressed gently against my shoulders and held me firmly against the bed and growled.
"Don't worry about your apartment... You're coming home with me."
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