SO SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING IN AGES!
I WAS BUSY WITH SOME STUFF.
SO VERY SORRY.
ABSOLUTELY SORRY.
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER! It focuses on Anne.
Thanks for the 8.4k reads!

Anne Alquiza (great name, ik), turned the key and locked the room, placing it in her pocket after.

Smiling softly in a crazy way, she turned away, hearing the door knob jingle with every try to get it open.

She had some work to do.

She went down the stairs and exited the house, grabbing an old, tattered purse before heading for her old car.

Climbing into the driver's seat, Anne turned the engine on and pulled away from the driveway. She reached for the stereo system and old-school songs from the 70s and the 60s blasted through the speakers. Humming softly to the tunes, she rode through a familiar road towards the hospital.

Adopting (y/n) was a mistake; she had to pay for her food, her clothes, her tuition fee, and not to mention the electricity and water bill will rise.

And the hospital bill.

And the funeral.

But it was all worth it.

She could be with her destined daughter now.

It was a good thing I set fire to their house, Anne thought, an evil smirk growing on her dry and thin lips. That torch from the Philippines was a goodie. Thank you, random street person.

Anne parked in the hospital's parking lot, in the exact same spot where she had parked when she picked up (y/n).

She shut off the radio and got off, then slammed the door shut so hard, nearly breaking the glass window.

Anne bent down and kneeled on the slightly damp ground. She moved her hands underneath the car, searching for something.

There.

Her long fingers curled around the leather pouch that was placed somewhere. Pulling it out, she stared at it for a while before placing it inside her purse. She patted it safely and got up to start her mission.

The glass doors opened automatically as she placed a foot in front of them. Walking inside, Anne took a deep breath and put on the calmest face she could do, considering on what she was up to.

"Hello, I would like to pay a bill-" she said to a lady who sat at the cashier as kindly as she could. Her name tag read 'Erika'

"-Erika"

Erika nodded and typed away on the keyboard. "Name of the patient?"

"(Y/n) and (y/s/n) (l/n)," Anne answered curtly, feeling her hands getting cold from excitement and fear. "Also their parents."

"Mhm...Just a second, ma'am," Erika smiled up at her, showing pearly-white teeth, before going back to her desktop.

Anne tapped on the counter-top impatiently.

"Your bill will be ten thousand and four hundred twenty-six dollars, ma'am," she said, her blue eyes meeting Anne's grey ones.

Anne's face hardened. "Who's the doctor?" She asked irritatedly, loosing her kind composure.

Erika looked shocked for a moment, but answered patiently, "Doctor Stanford, ma'am."

"I wish to pay the bill face-to-face with Doctor Stanford," Anne demanded, slamming her palm on the counter.

"But-"

"Now," Anne spat through gritted teeth.

She didn't have time for goodie two-shoes now.

Erika nodded with wide eyes and typed away again. After a short moment, she said, "Doctor Stanford is in room 315, ma'am."

Anne quickly turned around without saying a word, leaving Erika puzzled.

What was she up to?

She pushed all the nurses and the patients that were in her way as she walked as fast as she could to room 315.

She won't pay for that, heck no.

She found it at the end of the corridor and, finding it slightly open, kicked the door open.

Doctor Stanford was an old man with a square face, a stubble, greying hair, and black glasses. He looked at Anne with an expression mixed with shock and fear.

Anne closed the door with her foot and stormed towards him, who was rooted to his spot, too scared to move or to speak. She reached in her purse, opened the leather pouch, and felt the cold, metal surface.

She held the shot gun between his eyes. "You know I won't pay for that bill, Stanford," Anne causally said.

"And thank you for killing the little brat with your amateur surgery skills. I owe you one."