Chapter 3 - THE TICKING CLOCK
On the small digital display of Julian's Rolex, the seconds ticked away relentlessly. Eighteen minutes until the board call. Across the city, in a fifty-story glass tower overlooking the harbor, twelve senior executives were sitting around a mahogany table waiting for Julian Cross to log into the secure server.
Yet, looking at Ivy, the boardroom felt a million miles away.
"Julian?" Ivy tilted her head. "Are you getting sleepy? Grown-ups usually get sleepy when I talk too much."
"Never," Julian said instantly, leaning forward. "You're the most interesting person I've talked to all week. And believe me, that's saying a lot."
"What do you do when you're not visiting hospital rooms?" she asked, kicking her small feet beneath the heavy blankets.
"I run a company," Julian explained, choosing his words carefully. "We build things. Tall buildings, shipping networks, technology that connects people across the world."
Ivy’s eyes widened with genuine awe. "Like a giant? You build castles?"
Julian couldn't help the warm smile that spread across his face. "Sort of. But castles take a lot of work. Sometimes you get so busy building them that you forget to look out the window."
"That's silly," Ivy stated matter-of-factly. "What's the point of having a castle if you can't look at the birds?"
What's the point? The question echoed in Julian’s mind like a hammer strike. For ten years, he had sacrificed his life, his relationships, and his peace of mind on the altar of corporate expansion, believing that power and wealth were the ultimate shields against vulnerability. Yet here he was, sitting in a charity ward, being lectured on life choices by a seven-year-old girl holding a stuffed rabbit.
"You're right, Ivy," Julian whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion. "It is silly."
A sharp knock at the door interrupted the quiet moment.
A nurse in blue scrubs poked her head into the room, her eyes widening slightly when she recognized Julian Cross sitting by the bed. "Mr... Mr. Cross. I'm sorry to interrupt. Hospital administration said you were looking for the donor relations office earlier. Your board call is scheduled in ten minutes, and the private conference room on the third floor has been prepared for you."
May you like
Julian looked from the nurse back to Ivy. The spell of the room—the paper snowflakes, the pale winter sunlight, the innocent laughter—threatened to snap under the heavy weight of reality.
"Thank you, nurse," Julian said smoothly, slipping back into his corporate armor. "Tell them I'll be there in five minutes."
