Page 4 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

A tiny spark of hope flickers to life. Maybe there’s a solution after all. Maybe I won’t have to walk away from everything I’ve worked for. I quickly order Mr. Abernathy’s tests, then step into an empty consultation room to make the call. The financial aid office puts me on hold immediately, and I pace the small space while waiting, rehearsing what I’ll say. How I’ll explain that my boyfriend stole my tuition money without sounding like a complete idiot.

Through the window, I can see the hospital café entrance where I had my strange encounter. The man is long gone, but I can still picture him perfectly. The intensity in his eyes. The way he said my name.

The hold music cuts off, and a bored voice comes on the line. “Financial Aid, this is Debra.”

I turn away from the window, focusing on the call. “Hi, this is Elena Clarke. I’m a fourth-year medical student, and I’m calling about emergency financial options.”

“What kind of emergency?”

I swallow hard. “I’ve received a final notice for my tuition payment, but I’ve had an... unexpected financial situation arise.”

“You mean you can’t pay.”

“Yes, but it’s temporary. I just need?—”

“The deadline for emergency aid applications was last month, Ms. Clarke.”

My stomach drops. “But this just happened. I didn’t know I would need it last month.”

“That’s why it’s called emergency aid, for students who anticipate emergencies.”

I grip the phone tighter. “That doesn’t make any sense. How can you anticipate an emergency?”

“I don’t make the rules, Ms. Clarke.” Her voice remains flat, uninterested. “The next application period opens in January.”

“January? My payment is due in two days. I’ll be withdrawn from the program by January. It’s too late to get federal student loans at this point, for this semester.” I’ve been lucky that my inheritance has paid for my education. Until now. I was counting on the funds I thought were in my account and never filled out a FAFSA. A quick search last night already revealed I can’t possibly get it finished in time and approved for this semester.

“I understand that’s frustrating.” She clearly doesn’t. “Have you considered a private loan? Some of those fund quite quickly.”

“My credit is...” I trail off, not wanting to explain. “Are there any other options? Any exceptions?”

“You could speak with the Dean of Students. Sometimes, they make allowances for exceptional circumstances.”

A thread of hope. “How do I arrange that?”

“Submit a formal request through the portal. They typically respond within ten to fifteen business days.”

The hope snaps. “I don’t have that long. I have two days.”

“I understand that’s frustrating,” she repeats, like a robot with limited programming, “But those are the procedures.”

I thank her and hang up, resisting the urge to throw my phone across the room. This can’t be happening. Years of education and training, countless sleepless nights, and dedicating all my time to this endeavor, and all of it is about to disappear because Casey Harris decided my inheritance would look better in his pocket than mine.

My pager beeps, jolting me back to reality. Mr. Abernathy’s test results are ready, so I need to focus on my patients. I need to be Dr. Clarke for a few more hours. I’ll figure out how to save my career later.

As I step back into the hallway, Justin is waiting, his expression serious. “Elena, we need to talk about what you just said.”

“Not now, Justin. Mr. Abernathy’s results are in.”

“This is important.”

“So is our patient.” I brush past him, heading for the computer station.

He follows, persistent. “Twenty thousand dollars isn’t nothing. If you’re in trouble?—”

“I’m not in trouble.” I log into the system, pulling up the test results. “I’m handling it.”

“Is this why you’ve been so distracted lately? Why you keep taking extra shifts?”

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