“I’m willing to fight for my patients,” London said. “Literally. I will bitch-slap the first slick-tongued, suit-wearing asshole who comes into my operating room and tries to spew bullshit about cost-cutting measures.” She took another gulp of wine before gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows. When she spoke again, her voice was tight with anger. “Hedge fund managers and shareholders don’t have to look a parent in the eyes and tell them that their eight-year-old’s brain tumor is inoperable. Until one of them has to go through that particular hell, they can’t tell me a damn thing.”

London’s distress was palpable, unlike anything Taylor had ever witnessed from her. It was a stark reminder of the burden her friend shouldered. Sure, Taylor had her own troubles—she had been days away from possibly having to sleep in her car at one point—but it was nothing compared to the pressures London had to contend with. Sick kids trumped everything.

“If anyone can win this fight, it’s you.” Samiah leaned over and clinked London’s wineglass with her own. “Give them hell, my friend. Based on everything you’ve told us, they deserve it.”

“Yeah, lady. Give ’em hell.”

Taylor wouldn’t badger London about her boyfriend project anymore. She recognized that her friend needed an outlet to vent her frustrations more than she needed a hobby these days.

“Oh!” London exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa. “Before I forget. Someone left these in the break room at the hospital.” She unsnapped her mustard-yellow Tory Burch clutch and pulled out a business card. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but based on past conversations, I thought maybe you’d want to give it a try.” She handed Taylor the card.

“Who is the Debt Defeater?”

“Someone who helps you defeat debt,” London said. The duh was silent. “I checked out the website. Apparently, they help you negotiate down your debt. It couldn’t hurt.”

Taylor was tempted. She was so tempted. But she could hear the Colonel in her head, scolding her about shirking her obligations and not holding herself accountable. If there was one thing that had been drilled in her head from birth, it was that you took responsibility for your actions.

“As much as I would love someone to just wipe away my debt, it wouldn’t be right,” she said. “I accumulated those bills fair and square, and I made some shitty business decisions along the way.” She shrugged. “I have to deal with the consequences. At least the money I’m making with Jamar will pay off most of it.”

“Sixteen thousand will only pay off most of it? So you weren’t joking before when you said you were twenty thousand in debt?” London asked. She held up her hands. “Not that I’m judging.”

“It kinda sounds like you’re judging,” Samiah said.