Chapter 23

Mila was startled from her sleep by a small crash to her left. Her eyes popped open to see a clumsy candy striper mopping up a puddle of water and cursing under her breath. Mila watched in fascination.

“Good morning,” the doctor said, sailing into the room. “I’m Dr. Ogawa, and I’m glad you’re awake.”

She checked Mila’s eyes with her pocket otoscope and then held up a finger, asking Mila to follow it as she waved it back and forth. Mila obeyed as the candy striper finished her task and slunk out of the room.

“You seem to be over the infection, you were severely dehydrated and malnourished when they brought you in,” she confided, looking over her shoulder. Mila followed her gaze to the door, which Dr. Ogawa rose and closed. She came back toward the bed with a somber, thoughtful face and looked down at her patient. “Listen, I know your name is Milo Thorne, there was ID in your bag.”

“Uh huh,” Mila said, her heart speeding up as she lay helplessly in the bed.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” the doctor said, attempting to be kind. “I’ve had a call from the police department.”

“Oh, my God,” Mila said, terrified she was going to be arrested for something.

“Yes, I’m afraid it’s your mother,” the woman said.

Mila froze. “My… mother?”

“Yes… Listen, I don’t know what your relationship was with your parents, but I’m guessing it you were estranged.”

Mila nodded slightly, fearing what the doctor would say next.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother has passed away.” She waited a moment while this sunk in, then asked, “Is there someone I can call for you? Family? Friends?”

Mila shook her head. “No. Nobody. My father has been dead for many years… and I… no… There’s no one.”

Her mind flitted briefly to ShayAnne, but she knew she wasn’t welcome in that girl’s life. She drew a deep, trembling breath and wondered if she ought to cry. It seemed like the doctor was expecting her to, but Mila couldn’t muster a single tear.

“I’m sure this is quite a shock for you,” the woman said slowly. “If you’d like, I can arrange someone for you to talk to, to help you sort out your feelings.”

“Yes,” Mila said, knowing full well that this meant a psychiatric visit. “Thank you.”

Dr. Ogawa nodded and said softly, “I’ll make a note of it. In the meantime, if you need anything else, please ring the nurses’ station.”

Mila agreed and watched silently as the doctor left the room. Wow, she thought when she was alone, now I really am an orphan. It felt even stranger than being homeless had. Whatever her place in this world had been, it was gone now. She tried to think of how she should feel, but the reality was that it was just too good to be believed. That made her feel guilty; if her mother was truly gone, she should feel sad, not relieved.

But… Mila thought, if she is gone then I have nothing to fear. I can live my life how I want. A knock sounded on the door and a man in a gray suit entered. He had a briefcase and wore thick glasses, but other than that, he seemed harmless enough.

“Milo Thorne?” he said in a raspy voice. It sounded as though he’d had asthma all his life.

“Yes,” Mila answered, giving him a suspicious look.

“I’m Corbin Granger, your mother’s attorney,” he said, reaching out with long fingers to shake her hand. “I suppose you know why I’m here. The police put me in touch with Dr. Ogawa.”

Mila furrowed her brow at him, wondering if she should run now.

“I know this is a difficult time for you, but as the last surviving Thorne, you’ve inherited quite a bit of property and I need for you to sign some documents,” he said.

“What documents?” Mila asked hoarsely.

“Oh, estate rights, trust transfers, things like that,” he was opening his briefcase as he spoke, and drawing out some forms and a pen. “These are standard documents. We were able to avoid probate based on the way the family trust was set up, so there’s no red tape for you. You can go on spending as usual. None of the money will be held up; we just need to get your name as the primary on these accounts. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Go on spending?” she asked.

He was frowning now, shuffling through his papers like a lost man. “I’m sorry; I don’t seem to see your subaccount numbers on these documents. Have you been using a charge card?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “My mother always handled the money.”

“You never spent any of it?”

“Only a little cash.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, that’s all right. I’ll arrange a card for you and you can just charge or take cash out of the trust when you need to. Sign here.”

He thrust a set of pages beneath her nose and handed off a pen. She signed dutifully on the line and watched him draw the papers back to his briefcase.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said shortly. “I assume I can contact you at your mother’s house? Will you be back in town next week?”

“Uh, yes, sure,” Mila said, vaguely confused by this whole exchange.

“Great,” he said, shaking her hand again. “I look forward to seeing you then. And don’t worry; I’ll speak to hospital accounts on my way out and make sure they know to forward the bills to us. I know this is a difficult time for you.”

“Oh,” Mila said. “Thanks. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And again, my condolences,” he said as he left.

Mila’s head was spinning. Her mother really was gone. And everything in the family had been left to her. So… She could go home again! She could come and go as she pleased, with no one to tell her what to do or what not to do. She could wear jeans and eat chili fries and maybe even drive a car! The possibilities seemed suddenly endless and Mila felt her chest inflate with new hope.

She didn’t have to worry anymore. She could be who she wanted to be. Her mother’s controlling days were finally over. Mila took a deep breath and smiled. Her mother could go to hell; Mila was happy at last.