Dr. Patel rose from his chair, scribbling notes on his clipboard. His pen moved methodically across the paper, each stroke seeming to carry the weight of his mother's future. Jack watched the doctor's hands, wondering if the man understood what it felt like to have someone's life reduced to insurance codes and payment plans.
"I'll put in the preliminary orders for the experimental treatment," Dr. Patel said, his voice professional but tinged with caution. "However, I need to be clear about hospital policy." He looked up from his clipboard, meeting Jack's determined gaze. "We'll need financial clearance before we can begin. The treatment protocol requires—"
"How much of a deposit?" Jack interrupted.
"Thirty percent upfront. The remainder can be arranged through a payment plan, but we need the initial amount to secure the medication and equipment." Dr. Patel's expression softened slightly. "I wish it weren't this way, but these are administrative requirements beyond my control."
Jack nodded, the numbers spinning in his head. Twenty-four thousand dollars. The amount might as well have been twenty-four million for all his ability to produce it—without Elias Altiar.
"I understand. You'll have the money."
Dr. Patel hesitated, then tucked the clipboard under his arm. "I'll need confirmation by tomorrow afternoon if we're going to start next week."
"Tomorrow afternoon," Jack repeated, the deadline crystallizing in his mind. Twenty-four hours to convince a billionaire who'd disowned his daughter to hand over a fortune.
Jack walked the doctor to the door, his mind already mapping out the fastest route to Veridian Bluffs. "Thank you for everything you're doing for my mom."
Dr. Patel paused at the threshold. "Your mother is a fighter, Jackson. That's something medicine can't measure." He glanced back at Eliza, who was watching them with tired eyes. "But even fighters need the right tools."
The door clicked shut behind the doctor, leaving Jack alone with his mother and the weight of what needed to be done. The hospital's antiseptic smell suddenly seemed suffocating.
"Jack, please sit down." His mother's voice was barely above a whisper. "We need to talk about this."
He returned to her bedside but remained standing. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm going to Veridian Bluffs to see him."
"You can't just show up at Altiar Industries demanding to see the CEO." She reached for his hand, her fingers cool against his skin. "Security won't even let you through the front door."
"I'll figure it out."
"He's not a good man, Jack." Her voice trembled. "The way he treated your father—"
"I don't care what kind of man he is." Jack squeezed her hand gently. "All I care about is getting you better."
His mother's eyes welled with tears. "I never wanted you to be part of that world. That's why I never told you."
Jack sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the IV line. "Mom, you don't need to protect me anymore. Let me do this for you."
She studied his face, her eyes tracing the features she knew so well—the determined set of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows that appeared whenever he was problem-solving. She saw Thomas in him now more than ever.
"You look just like your father when you get that expression," she whispered.
"Then he'd be doing exactly what I'm about to do." Jack leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about anything except getting rest. I'll take care of everything."
"Jack—"
"I promise, Mom. Everything's going to be okay."
He wasn't sure if he believed it himself, but he'd say whatever she needed to hear. Because for the first time in his life, Jackson Reeves had access to the one thing that had always been out of reach—money. And he was going to get it, no matter what it took.
Jack stepped into the hospital corridor, the weight of his mother's revelation still pressing on his chest. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everyone in the same sickly pallor. Nurses rushed past with clipboards, doctors huddled around patient charts, and somewhere a monitor beeped with mechanical persistence. None of them knew his world had just been turned inside out.
He found the stairwell and took the steps two at a time, needing movement, needing air. The main lobby blurred as he pushed through the double doors and emerged into the morning sunlight. The contrast between the sterile hospital environment and the living world outside hit him like a physical force.
Jack leaned against the concrete pillar near the entrance, letting the cool surface support him as he pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered over Miguel's contact for a moment before pressing call.
The phone rang three times before Miguel's voice came through, sleep-rough and confused. "Jack? Man, it's not even eight. What's up?"
"I need a favor." Jack's voice sounded strange to his own ears, like it belonged to someone else.
"You okay? You sound weird." The background noise shifted as Miguel presumably sat up in bed.
"My mom's worse than we thought." Jack swallowed hard, the reality of saying it aloud making his throat tighten. "Cancer's spread. They're talking months, Migs. Not years. Months."
"Shit." The word came out as a whisper. "I'm sorry, man. What do you need? Anything."
"I need you to cover for me at school today. Tell Bernstein I had to take my mom to another doctor appointment or something."
"Done. You staying at the hospital all day?"
Jack watched a young couple exit the hospital, the woman cradling a newborn. Life beginning as his mother's was being measured in remaining days. "No. I'm going to Veridian Bluffs."
"Veridian—what? Why would you go there? That's like an hour away."
Jack took a deep breath. "Turns out my grandfather lives there. My mom's father."
"Wait, what? I thought you didn't have any other family."
"Yeah. So did I." Jack ran a hand through his hair, still processing it himself. "Turns out my grandfather is Elias Altiar."
The silence on the other end stretched so long Jack checked to make sure the call hadn't dropped.
"Miguel?"
"Elias Altiar? Like, the Elias Altiar? The billionaire guy whose face is on those business magazines at the grocery checkout?"
"That's the one."
"Holy shit, Jack." Miguel's voice dropped to an awed whisper. "Your grandfather is one of the richest guys in the country, and you've been working at Pete's Auto Shop for eight bucks an hour?"
"He disowned my mom when she married my dad. We've never met."
"And you're just going to show up at his mansion? What's the plan here?"
Jack watched an ambulance pull into the emergency bay, its lights flashing silently. "He's going to pay for my mom's treatment. It costs eighty thousand dollars."
Another pause. "And if he says no?"
"Not an option." Jack's fingers tightened around the phone. "I'm not asking him, Migs. I'm telling him."
Miguel let out a low whistle. "You're either the bravest or craziest person I know."
"Probably both." Jack managed a hollow laugh. "So you'll cover for me?"
"Always, brother. You know that." Miguel's voice turned serious. "But be careful, okay? Rich people play by different rules."
"I'm counting on it." Jack straightened up, his decision hardening into resolve. "I'll call you later."
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happens with this Altiar guy... you're still you, right? We're still us?"
Jack thought about the question as a sleek black Mercedes glided past the hospital entrance. "Nothing's changing, Migs. I'm just getting what my mom deserves."
He ended the call and pocketed his phone, already mapping the fastest route to Veridian Bluffs in his head.