I’ll have Dr. Okafor check in this evening.” She walked out. Reed called back in 16 minutes. Lilly relayed everything at the 6:00 p.m. check, her voice barely moving the air. “Garrett’s secondary account came in was frozen at 3:00 p.m. SEC referral was drafted. Bernard Holt has been served and is cooperating.
Reed says Thursday is too long. He needs you to hold 24 more hours.” Jack pressed once. Yes. “He also said, and I’m quoting, ‘Tell Jack the leverage on the Meridian clause is already burned. She has nothing to stand on.'” One press. Lilly paused. “He asked me to ask you one personal thing. He said you’d want to answer even if it’s hard.
” She looked directly at his face. “He asked if you know whether the accident was Katherine. He said if it was the legal strategy changes.” The room held still. Jack moved to the board. Y E S. Lilly read it. Her face didn’t collapse. It set the face of someone absorbing something terrible and choosing to carry it forward.
“I’ll tell him.” she said quietly. She smoothed his blanket at the shoulder, the same small gesture she made every evening, the most consistent kindness anyone had offered him in 2 years, and said, “24 hours.” Not a reassurance, a reminder. The difference mattered enormously to him, and she somehow knew that.
Jack Carter stared at the ceiling and thought about the next 24 hours. He thought about Reed building the counteroffensive in real time. He thought about Garrett who believed his money was clean. He thought about Lucas fracturing under the weight of what he had almost done. He thought about Katherine downstairs with lawyers searching for the leak, looking in every direction except the right one.
She had never once considered the nurse. That single blind spot was going to cost her everything. The night moved in fragments, each one its own small eternity. At 3:00 a.m. Preston Hale made a mistake. He took a phone call in the hallway outside Jack’s room in the way people get careless at 3:00 a.m. when they believe the only witness is a man in a coma.
His voice was low, but not low enough. And Jack, who had spent 18 days refining his ability to extract information from partial sound, caught every word. The Andrews issue needs to be contained before morning. If he gets the account documentation to the SEC, the Cayman freeze becomes permanent. A pause. The power of attorney is only as strong as the legal framework behind it.
If Andrews can establish responsiveness in the first 72 hours, the the whole proxy collapses. Another pause. Then, “Tell Katherine we need a decision by 6:00 a.m. We either push the timeline or we cut the secondary. We can’t hold both.” The call ended. Jack processed this with the cold precision that had become his primary mode of survival in this bed.
Three things he hadn’t known before Reed had already delivered documentation to the SEC faster than even Jack had anticipated. The power of attorney was shakier than Katherine had shown, and she was about to be forced into a choice between her two remaining plays. Whichever one she sacrificed would be the one that unraveled her.
He needed to get that to Reed before 6:00 a.m. The problem was that Lily’s shift didn’t start until noon. He spent 20 minutes assessing his options, arrived at the only one that remained, and began moving his hand toward the call button at the edge of the bed rail. 3 in, 3 in. 3 mi. He had been building motor function slowly.
Finger taps, letter board, small controlled movements, but this required a different pathway. One that compression had hit harder. He tried anyway. Away. It took 40 minutes. By the time his palm grazed the button and triggered it, he was spent in ways that didn’t show on the surface. The night nurse who came was not Lily. She checked his monitors, noted the call button activation as probable involuntary response, and left.
Jack felt the loss of those 40 minutes like something physical. At 5:47 a.m. the door opened. He expected the morning orderly. He got Lily Ford who was not supposed to be there until noon, who crossed the room quietly and said in barely a breath, “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the 24 hours.” She pulled the letter board from under her arm.
“Reed called me at 4:00. He says if you have anything urgent, he needs it before 6:00.” Jack moved to the board before she finished the sentence.Lily read it back already dialing. Reed answered on the first ring.
She relayed everything, Preston’s call, the 6:00 a.m. deadline, the 72-hour responsiveness window. She read from her notes with the precision of someone who understood that exact words mattered. Reed was quiet for 4 seconds. Then, “Tell him I already have the 72-hour proof. Okafor documented elevated stress responses in the first 48 hours inconsistent with a vegetative state.
I had a neurologist review the chart last night. She’ll testify.” A pause. “Tell him Catherine’s window just closed.” Lily relayed it quietly watching Jack’s face. He pressed once. Yes. Then he moved back to the board. o n e m o r e t h i n g l u c a s i s b r e a k i n USEHIM. Reed’s response was immediate.
He called to my office at 11:00 last night. He wants a deal. A beat. Jack, set aside whatever you’re feeling about Lucas until Thursday. I need him functional. Lilly looked at Jack. He pressed once. Reed heard it. Good. Now tell him to rest. He’ll need it. The call ended. Lilly lowered the phone and looked at Jack with her level honest attention.
