One afternoon, when Rose had stepped out for a moment to rinse the towel, Chief Williams turned his face to the wall and whispered to himself, “Is this how my life will end? This family… the family I sacrificed everything for.”
“They don’t even check on me. They don’t care if I’ve eaten. Not even Agatha, my wife. I gave them my life, my sweat, my name. And now, they are just counting down my days. They can’t even be bothered to ask, ‘Daddy, how are you feeling today?'” A single, hot tear escaped his eye as he groaned softly, “Oh, God, what did I do wrong?”
While the old man lay coughing upstairs, loud music blared from the ground floor. Frank, his firstborn son, had converted one of the guest rooms into a personal party zone. He drank expensive wine, laughed loudly with his friends, and made boisterous phone calls, acting as if he already owned the entire estate.
He didn’t check on his father. Not even for a minute.
Down at the company headquarters, Frank made his move. One morning, he strode into the corporate office with an air of unearned authority. He stood before the board members and announced proudly, “Good morning. My father is very sick and will not be returning. From today, I am in charge.”
Some of the staff offered a weak, hesitant round of applause. Others just looked deeply uncomfortable. Mr. Depot, an elderly man who had worked loyally for Chief Williams for twenty-eight years, stood up.
“With all due respect, sir, the Chief is still alive. Shouldn’t we wait for his official word on this matter?”
Frank slammed his palm on the polished table. “Are you telling me what to do in my father’s company?”
Miss Linda, another long-time staff member, slowly rose to her feet. “Sir, we only want to ensure the company remains safe. Perhaps we could form a temporary team to support you until the Chief speaks.”
Frank turned to the HR manager, his face dark. “Fire all of them. I don’t want to see their faces in this building tomorrow.”
Within minutes, security personnel entered the boardroom and began escorting the bewildered employees out. Mr. Depot shook his head in disbelief. “You’re sacking me? I served your father like a brother.”
“I don’t care!” Frank shouted. “Get out!”
David, the second son, rushed into the office when he heard the commotion. He stormed into the boardroom, his face red with anger.
“What is wrong with you?” he shouted at Frank. “Why are you acting like Dad is already dead?”
Frank leaned back in the CEO’s chair, putting his feet up on the desk. “Wake up, David. Dad has six months, if that. I’m just getting a head start on preparations.”
“You’re ruining everything he built!” David shot back.
“You just think you’re smarter because you went to university abroad, don’t you?” Frank snapped.
David stepped closer, jabbing a finger. “Stop this madness, or I swear, I’ll stop you myself.”
Frank shoved him hard. David responded by punching him. Security guards rushed in immediately, pulling the two brothers apart.
Later that day, news of the fight reached Rose. She was utterly heartbroken. She summoned both of them to the main living room.
With tears streaming down her face, she confronted them. “Why are you two fighting? You know Daddy is unwell. Why are you fighting over his money and his company when all he needs from us right now is our love?”
“Did Daddy not give us a good life? Hasn’t he sacrificed enough for every single one of us? Why are we betraying him now, when he needs us most?”
Frank stared at the floor. David remained silent, his jaw tight.
“If anything happens to him,” she said, her voice choked with emotion, “God will not forgive us.” She turned and walked away, sobbing.
That evening, as Rose was feeding her father his meager dinner, there was a quiet knock. It was Mr. John, the family lawyer. He entered, sat down, and spoke in a low voice. “Sir. Your boys got into a physical altercation at the office today. Frank has fired all of your most loyal staff. The company is not stable.”
Chief Williams managed a weak, knowing smile. “Let them show their true colors,” he whispered. “I’m still watching.”
Just then, loud voices drifted up from downstairs again. This time, it was Agatha and Cynthia.
“I want to sell that plot of land by the expressway!” Cynthia shouted. “Why are you holding onto it when Dad is about to die?”
Agatha’s voice was cold and pragmatic. “Let him die first. Then we’ll sell it.”
Chief Williams heard every word. His heart hammered in his chest, not from any sickness, but from the profound pain of knowing his wife and daughter felt no love, no care—only impatience for his death….
