I didn’t believe in fate, but I believed in irony.
And my old high school bully was asking my bank for help. He wanted $50,000.
But Mark’s credit score was destroyed, his credit cards were maxed out, he had two missed car payments, and he had no meaningful collateral. On paper, it was an automatic denial.
Then I read the purpose of the loan: emergency pediatric cardiac surgery.
I slowly closed the file and called Daniel, asking him to send Mark in.
A quiet knock followed, and the door opened.
For a moment I barely recognized him when he stepped inside.
The varsity linebacker was gone. In his place stood a thin, exhausted man in a wrinkled suit that didn’t quite fit. His shoulders curved inward like life had pressed down on them. Mark didn’t recognize me right away.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he said, sitting down.
I leaned back in my chair.
