For a second I couldn’t speak, caught between gratitude, suspicion, and a strange heat rising up through my chest.
Outside, night pressed closer to the windows. Inside, neither of us moved.
“But Hayden, I can’t just take your money. You worked for every coin—it’s yours. And you must be saving for something.” My gaze flicked to his left thumb; the ring I’d made him was still there, a little frayed but worn all the same.
He didn’t even blink. “Plans change. What I want can wait. You need this now. Coins are just coins.”
A current ran between us, the kind that made it hard to breathe. I tried to reason with myself—what other choice did I have? Turn him down, and risk my parents’ lives. Accept, andowe him more than I could ever pay back. Or maybe that was what scared me most.
“What if it’s not enough?” I asked, voice thinning. “The hospital needed that much just to let them in. What if it takes everything?”
He shrugged. “Then it does. I’ll survive.”
It was too much, too bare, and yet I knew arguing was pointless. I drew a shaky breath, tension still wired tight beneath my skin. “Okay. But I… I’ll have to owe you back someday.”
“We’ll see about that.” He jerked his chin toward the sofa, all business. “How about you sit now.”
I dropped onto the cushions, heart thudding. He joined me, close enough that our knees nearly touched. For a moment, he didn’t look at me, just scrolled briskly on his ring, all focus and cool efficiency.
Then he held his ring out, his voice low and a little rough. “Ready? You’ll need to press your screen to mine.”
I pressed my ring to his. A beep sounded. I looked down—only to see a red cross on the display.
My stomach dropped. “Did that work?”
Hayden’s jaw set. “Let’s do it again.” He tried again, more deliberate, our fingers almost touching as we lined up the screens. The result was the same.
Beep, red cross. Hayden’s lips pressed into a flat line, something darkening his features.
“What’s happening?” I whispered.
Hayden exhaled and picked up his phone, scrolling. “Let’s find out.” He called someone, voice quiet. “Yeah, Edgar? Sorry to bug you. Any idea why I’d have a problem transferring coins from a bronze to a gray?”
Silence, then Hayden’s face closed off, something further darkeninghis eyes.
“Right. Got it.” He ended the call with a curt tap, setting the phone down between us.
I waited, breath held.
“They won’t let the transfer through. One can’t gift unless one has a minimum of three hundred thousand. ‘Promotes equal opportunity,’ apparently. ‘Builds initiative.’” His mouth twisted in something like a smile, but there was nothing warm in it.
A bitter laugh caught in my throat. “Right. Because we all just need a little more character building.”
The moment stretched, Hayden’s energy still wound tight beside me.
Of course. It would’ve been too much to expect that we could do what we wanted with our imaginary coins. We had to follow the rules, because they were supposedly better for us.
“The same principle would apply if I tried to pay the hospital directly,” he added, tone edged. “Not allowed. Classified as ‘personal transfer.’”
So that was it. Tomorrow, nine a.m.—Anna Springs.
Neither of us moved. Silence crackled. The room felt smaller, the air charged, as if the walls themselves were waiting for something to break.
“Thanks for trying,” I managed. “You didn’t have to.”
Hayden’s eyes lingered on me, difficult to read in the half-light. “I do what I want to,” he said, voice low. “And I’m not a fan of dead ends.”
The silence between us grew taut, the whole room suddenly feeling too small. Hayden stood abruptly, his movements tight, and crossed to the kitchen counter. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge, but when he spoke, his voice was steady.
