The soft hum of Henry's laptop was the only sound breaking the quiet of the study, aside from the distant ticking of the grandfather clock near the door. The pale morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting faint shadows across the polished mahogany desk where Henry sat. His face was drawn, pale from days of battling a persistent illness that had kept him bed-ridden and disconnected from the business world that had once consumed his every waking moment.
For the past several days, he had barely touched his devices—no calls, no texts, and certainly no emails. His body had demanded rest, and rest he had given it, though his mind, ever restless, had frequently wandered to the state of his company and the projects that were undoubtedly moving forward without his oversight. That morning, however, something stirred within him—a tug of curiosity or perhaps responsibility. He felt just well enough to make the effort.
