Dr. Maya Khan stared at the computer screen in the cramped office of the Sterling-Khan Community Clinic. For months, the numbers in the “Outstanding Debt” column had been red. Today, they were zero.
“Julian,” she called out, her voice trembling with relief. “The pharmaceutical supplier just emailed. The hold is lifted. The rent is paid through December. How?”
Dr. Julian Sterling leaned against the doorframe, wiping his hands on a towel. He looked at the woman he loved–the woman who had taught him that integrity mattered more than billions. He thought of the check from Jaxson Vane sitting in the bank account, the money that came with the strings of a corrupt tech shark.
“It was a grant,” Julian lied, forcing a smile. “An anonymous endowment for urban healthcare initiatives. It came through this morning.”
Maya rushed over and hugged him, burying her face in his chest. “I knew we could do it the right way. No corporate devils, no Sterling money. just us.”
Julian held her tight, staring over her shoulder at the flickering fluorescent light. “Just us,” he echoed, the weight of the lie settling in his stomach like lead. He had saved the clinic, but he had opened the door to the “Corruptor”.