One afternoon, Marcus, his longtime driver, called to ask whether Daniel would return to Manhattan for an important board meeting.
Daniel glanced through the hospital window.
Noah was practicing a new exercise with his physical therapist. Emily stood beside him, encouraging him through every painful repetition.
“Move it to next week,” Daniel said.
“Sir, the investors have been waiting for months.”
“Then they can wait another week.”
“Is everything all right?”
Daniel watched Noah struggle, pause, and try again.
For the first time in years, he smiled without thinking about money.
“No,” he said. “But for once, I’m working on the things that matter.”
Then he ended the call.
Six weeks later, Noah underwent surgery.
The procedure lasted several hours.
Emily sat in the waiting room, twisting a tissue between her fingers. Daniel sat beside her, his expensive suit wrinkled, his tie loosened, and his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
