Chapter 3 - THE PRICE OF FIVE COINSThe gastroenterologist arrived shortly after one in the morning.
Three objects appeared small enough to pass naturally. Two were clustered in a position that concerned him because Noah’s pain had intensified and the exact objects could not yet be identified.
They decided on endoscopic removal.
Lorna objected to everything.
The procedure.
The questions.
The social worker.
Especially the social worker.
“You’re turning a stupid kid decision into a federal case.”
Maya remained beside the door.
“A nine-year-old walking several miles to an emergency room in the rain is not a stupid kid decision.”
“He’s dramatic.”
“He’s underweight.”
“He’s always been skinny.”
“His school medical record will help establish whether that’s true.”
For the first time, Lorna looked genuinely alarmed.
“You’re calling his school?”
“Yes.”
Lorna reached for her phone.
Maya noticed that too.
Noah underwent the procedure before dawn.
The objects were coins.
Four dimes.
One nickel.
Nothing exotic.
Nothing worth risking a child’s life for.
But when Dr. Harris placed the small specimen cup beside Noah after he woke, Noah stared through the plastic with an expression that made their monetary value irrelevant.
“They’re Dad’s.”
Dr. Harris looked at the dates.
Three of the dimes were from 1964.
Old silver coins.
Noah touched the container.
“He had a blue box.”
“What blue box?”
“His coin box.”
Noah said his father used to let him sort the coins on Sunday mornings while they watched baseball.
Daniel never had an expensive collection.
Some silver quarters. Older dimes. A few foreign coins inherited from Noah’s grandfather.
But they were among the only objects from his father that Noah had been allowed to keep.
“Where’s the rest of the box?” Dr. Harris asked.
Noah’s mouth tightened.
“Aunt Lorna sold it.”
“When?”
“Different times.”
“Did she tell you why?”
“She said Dad owed her.”
There it was again.
The debt.
Noah explained the rest only after Maya promised he would not leave the hospital with Lorna that morning.
He had found five coins months earlier beneath the lining of Daniel’s old toolbox.
He kept them inside a sock behind his dresser.
He had also been saving change from returned grocery carts, birthday cards, and money Marcus Cole had slipped into his Christmas card.
Twenty-three dollars and eighty cents.
Enough, Noah believed, to reach Marcus’s neighborhood by bus.
The night before, Mason found the jar.
Mason was fifteen, nearly six feet tall, and angry whenever Noah touched food after dinner.
“He said Mom should’ve gotten that money too.”
“What happened next?” Maya asked.
“I took the old ones.”
“The coins?”
Noah nodded.
“I put them in my mouth.”
“Why?”
“So he couldn’t take them.”
Maya kept her voice steady.
“You could have held them in your hand.”
“He grabs my hands.”
The room seemed smaller after that.
Noah said he had meant to hide the coins under his tongue until Mason left.
Then Mason shoved him against the dresser.
Noah swallowed.
Lorna came upstairs after hearing the noise.
She knew what had happened.
“She said if my stomach started hurting, I could learn not to steal.”
Noah had waited almost two hours before leaving.
That explained Lorna’s timeline.
She had known he was injured before he disappeared.
At 7:40 a.m., Maya contacted Franklin County Children Services.
The investigator who answered pulled Noah’s name from the system.
Then her tone changed.
“There’s already an open school referral.”
Maya straightened.
“For what?”
“Chronic absence, possible food neglect and weight loss.”
“When was it opened?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Maya looked through the glass toward Lorna.
“Has anyone spoken with the guardian?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
The investigator paused.
“That Noah was temporarily staying with relatives in Kentucky while recovering from surgery.”
Maya looked at Noah asleep beneath the hospital blanket.
May you like
Noah had never been to Kentucky.
And according to his medical chart, he had never had that surgery.
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