Lucas reached for a red plastic fire truck on the bedside table and began to roll it slowly across Daniel’s knee.

“Vroom,” Lucas whispered.

Daniel watched the toy move, his expression distant.

I knew his mind was in the city, at the Whitmore tower.

I could picture the board members sitting around the long mahogany table.

I could see Arthur Pendelton looking at his watch, his face darkening with every passing minute.

They would be furious.

To them, Daniel’s absence was not just a delay; it was a betrayal.

Twenty minutes passed in near silence.

The only sounds were the soft rolling of the toy truck and the steady beep of my heart monitor.

Then, the landline phone on the wall near the door began to ring.

The sound was sharp and shrill.

Daniel stiffened.

He did not move to answer it.

After three rings, the door opened.

Ruth walked into the room, carrying a small canvas bag.

Her coat was damp from the rain, and her face was pale.

She stopped when she saw Daniel sitting on the bed with the boys.