StevanEric lifted the wine glass to his lips, his gaze still locked on me, before speaking again.“Forgive the question, Stevan,” he began after a few seconds, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You mentioned your mother is sick. What does she have?”I blinked slowly. So he really wanted to keep talking about me—and that might have been the most disorienting part of this entire situation.“One of her kidneys isn’t working anymore. She needs more hemodialysis sessions until she can get a transplant, but the insurance won’t approve the extra ones,” I explained, trying to keep my voice steady.Eric’s expression shifted almost immediately. He set his glass down and leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. Those brown eyes stayed fixed on mine with an intensity that felt almost too heavy to bear, like he was trying to see past every word.Instinctively, I wanted to look away. But this time, I couldn’t.“What would you do to get the money she needs for treatment?”The question
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