Chapter 3 - The Miracle Patient
Once the hallway was cleared of my screaming relatives, Dr. Aris stepped forward and adjusted my IV stand, disconnecting the harmless saline drip that had masqueraded as heavy narcotics.
“Your vitals are stable, Eleanor. Blood pressure is actually better than yesterday,” the doctor noted with a wry smile.
“Revenge is excellent for the circulation, Doctor,” I replied, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
The truth was, I was dying. The liver failure was real, but the timeline was not. I had perhaps six months, not six days. When I realized the vultures were circling, I had struck a deal with Dr. Aris and Arthur. We accelerated the narrative. We let the family think I was on death's door, heavily medicated, and oblivious.
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“The press release is ready,” Arthur said, handing me a tablet. “Crestview Freight is officially restructuring. The employee-ownership trust goes into effect at midnight.”
I looked at the screen. My “useless lifers”—the truck drivers, the warehouse managers, the dispatchers who had built my company with their sweat and loyalty—were about to become the sole shareholders. Marcus had wanted to fire them. Instead, they were about to own his inheritance. I pressed 'Send' on the email to the board of directors. The shockwave was about to hit.
