Chapter 7 - My sons visit the hospital
Daniel came six days after the heart attack.
Marcus came with him.
Two suits.
Two attorneys waiting outside.
I almost admired efficiency.
Daniel stood at the foot of my hospital bed.
“Dad.”
“Daniel.”
Marcus:
“You look better.”
“Than on the sidewalk?”
He looked away.
Good.
Daniel said:
“We need to talk about what happened.”
“You stepped on my hand.”
“It was chaos.”
“You told me not to touch your suit.”
His jaw tightened.
“That recording lacks context.”
“What context makes it good?”
No answer.
Marcus said:
“We thought someone had called an ambulance.”
“Thomas did more than think.”
Daniel looked at me.
“The homeless guy?”
“His name is Thomas Reed.”
Daniel’s mouth shifted.
“You know his name.”
“Yes.”
“He’s been here?”
“Yes.”
“Dad.”
There was suspicion already.
I laughed.
“You left me dying and your concern is who visited afterward?”
Daniel said:
“My concern is people taking advantage while you’re vulnerable.”
That was almost art.
I asked:
“What do you want?”
The answer came.
Voting consent for the refinancing.
A proposed temporary delegation.
Daniel would receive authority over my high-vote shares for eighteen months while I recovered.
“No.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
“You nearly died.”
“Yes.”
“The company cannot operate around your health.”
“The company has a board.”
“You can block the transaction.”
“I haven’t.”
“Then sign.”
“No.”
Marcus said:
“You’re being emotional.”
I looked at him.
He knew instantly.
Wrong word.
“Leave.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Dad, don’t make this about the sidewalk.”
“It already is.”
“We have responsibilities.”
“So did you.”
He went still.
I pressed the call button.
A nurse entered.
I said:
May you like
“My sons are leaving.”
They did.
