Seven-year-old Toby Miller pressed his newest crayon sketch against the pale wall of Room 412, filling the very last patch of empty space next to the unconscious man’s bed.

Securing the hard drive was child’s play. With Hector’s key and a few strategically placed bribes by Sarah, the evidence was in Arthur’s hands within twenty-four hours.

Arthur sat in his study at the upstate estate, listening to the crystal-clear audio recording of Julian explicitly detailing how to murder him, and how Clara would keep the police distracted.

It was the final nail in their coffin.

But Arthur wasn't going to just hand it over to the police. He wanted to break them. He wanted to humiliate them in front of the entire world, just as they had humiliated his legacy.

"Arthur," Sarah called out, stepping into the study. She looked worried. "The news just broke. The judge signed the declaration of death. Tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM, Julian is hosting a memorial service at the Sterling Tower, followed immediately by a board meeting where he will officially be crowned CEO."

Arthur looked at the calendar. It was Day 180. Exactly six months since the crash.

"Perfect timing," Arthur said, closing his laptop.

He looked down at his legs. He placed his hands on the armrests of his wheelchair, gritted his teeth, and pushed.

His arms strained, veins bulging in his neck. His legs, trembling violently, took the weight. Slowly, agonizingly, Arthur stood up. He swayed, his knees buckling slightly, but he held his ground.

Sarah gasped, dropping the files she was holding. "Arthur! You're standing!"