The person across from her let out a quiet chuckle, reaching for their coffee mug as their tense features finally relaxed. "So, what exactly do you want to talk about today?"
Linda leaned back against the leather cushion, her eyes studying the person across from her as a million conflicting questions swirled through her mind. But as she fixed her gaze on the person, the primary question rose clearly to the surface.
"Where exactly do we go from here?"
GEORGE
George turned the loose pages over in a state of sheer disbelief, his fingers trembling against the crisp paper. He stared at the detailed geological charts, waiting for Michael to return with the older records stored inside the penthouse safe. The text on the pages seemed to blur together under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room.
"This can't be right," George breathed, words barely a whisper as a cold knot of dread tightened inside him.
The door swung open, and Michael walked back into the room holding a faded manila folder.
"If you're going to keep a secure safe up in your apartment, you really have to change the combination from the standard numbers you use for everything," Michael said, setting the old records onto the over-bed table. "Using those same four digits is practically inviting a breach."
George barely heard the warning, his mind entirely consumed by the documents in his lap. He offered a half-hearted grumble about getting the code changed, his hand reaching out to trackthe fresh data sheets instead of the old files Michael had just retrieved.
They focused their attention on the new evidence Anna had compiled, skipping past the historical rejections from decades ago. George flipped to a stamped verification sheet, his eyes locking onto the corporate header at the top of the timeline. His breath hitched as a sudden, sharp recognition struck him, the technical layouts mirroring a memory he had buried deep in his mind.
"Son of a..." George cut himself off, his voice tight as he shoved the document directly toward his nephew's chest. "That survey that was done six months ago. Look at the description." His thumb pressed hard against the lower margin. "That slippery woman had an independent survey executed under the strict corporate guise of an environmental drainage assessment and aquifer stability check."
Michael took the sheet, his eyes scanning the technical rows. A subtle, knowing curve appeared on his lips, a quiet flash of validation that didn't go amiss.
George watched the expression, his frustration boiling over as a wave of heat rushed up his neck. "Are you siding with Anna on this?"
Michael didn’t answer immediately, his legal mask remaining perfectly still as he studied the charts. George’s head was in a violent spin, the sheer shock of the text making the room feel deeply unstable. Without warning, every single truth he had built his life upon for the past forty years was fracturing into pieces. The defensive walls of his stubborn pride were crumbling into dust. He had ruined something real, throwing away his own marriage and casting out the only woman he had evertruly loved, all because he had placed his full faith in a cleverly disguised corporate lie. The massive weight of the shame and the raw, bleeding heartache hit his chest all at once.
"This can't be right," George muttered again, his voice breaking as the reality of his own foolishness settled behind his eyes. He looked up, his gaze meeting his nephew's steady stare. "Is this real?"
"It is real," Michael told him, though his tone held no comfort at all. "I know the environmental engineering firm that Anna contracted to run these core samples. They are an elite outfit, and they don't mess around with their data lines."
George swallowed hard, his mouth feeling dry as bone. "Then does that mean the historical findings are genuine on the Hearts Hotel property?"
"Going strictly with the stratigraphy reports Anna provided here, I'm going to have to say yes," Michael said, his jaw setting into a hard line. "I will personally verify the chain of custody on the soil samples, though."
"Good," George said, though the word tasted like ash on his tongue. In his heart, he knew the truth. Anna's records were flawless, the science completely unyielding.
A loud, roaring sound started in his ears, drowning out the ambient hum of the hospital corridor. His head spun violently, the pale green walls tilting at an alarming angle. Oh no, what had he done? He really was an old fool. A sudden, terrifying pressure clamped down around his lungs, a heavy vice tightening until his breath was cut off. A sharp, blinding pain ripped straight through the center of his chest, making him gasp desperately for air.
Dizziness swamped his senses, the hospital room blurring into a tunnel of dark shadows. In the distance, the steady pulse of the vitals monitor shifted, a frantic, rhythmic beeping filling the air as his heart raced out of control.
“Uncle George!” He heard Michael calling out his name, the voice sounding distant and warped, as though it were traveling through deep water.
George tried to reach out a trembling hand toward his nephew, his fingers clawing at the white sheet.
"Sorry..." George managed to mutter, his vision darkening to a pinpoint. "Tell... tell... Anna... sorry."
The world went black.
Michael
Michael lunged across the bed rail, a surge of pure panic ice-charging through his veins as George's eyes rolled back and his hand dropped lifelessly against the mattress. The heart monitor’s steady rhythm shattered, replaced by a high-pitched, screaming alarm that echoed loudly against the tile walls.
"Uncle George!" Michael barked, his fingers clumsy with adrenaline as he fumbled along the plastic housing of the rail, desperately searching for the emergency call button. He slammed his palm against the plastic toggle, shouting for the nursing staff at the top of his lungs.
“Help,” Michael screamed so loud his throat burned from the force of it. “Help! Doctor! Doctor!”
George was gasping, his chest hitching in shallow, unnatural jerks as the color drained from his face, leaving his features a terrifying, pale shade of gray.
