The First Thread

Chapter Three

“…the Singapore acquisition closes on Thursday.”

“It was scheduled for Friday.”

Damien Ashbourne looked up from the report. “The regulators moved the date yesterday.”

The director glanced at his notes and gave a small nod. “My apologies.”

Another file was opened. “The litigation with Harper Industries has been settled. Both parties agreed to an out-of-court resolution. The settlement documents were signed this morning.”

“Any restrictions?”

“None that affect our ongoing projects.”

“Good.”

The file was closed and another slid into its place. “The Ashbourne Foundation.”

The Chief Financial Officer adjusted the papers in front of him. “St. Mary’s Hospital has requested approval for the second phase of funding for its renal programme.”

“Second phase? The first phase was approved only three months ago.”

“And they’ve already exhausted it?

"According to the report.”

Damien looked down at the figures again.

“The hospital believes the demand has exceeded its initial projections.”

He closed the file. “Believes?”

The Foundation director straightened in his seat. “Those are the figures they submitted.”

“Figures don’t tell me how a programme is being run.” His gaze swept across the table. “Has anyone inspected it since the grant was approved?”

A brief silence settled over the room.

“The inspection is scheduled for next week.”

“No.” Damien leaned back slightly. “Today.”

The Foundation director cleared his throat. “Mr. Ashbourne, if it’s your schedule you’re concerned about, I’d be happy to—”

“I changed my schedule.” He stood, buttoned his jacket, and picked up the file. “Reschedule the rest of today’s meetings.”

Without another word, he walked out.

---

By the time Elena arrived at the transplant coordinator’s office, something in the hospital had shifted. Conversations stopped halfway whenever someone walked past. Nurses moved with unusual urgency, carrying files from one department to another. Someone hurriedly straightened the chairs in the waiting area while two doctors paused outside a ward, quietly adjusting their coats before moving on. Two interns debated in low voices whether the inspection had reached their floor.

“He’s here.”

“I thought it was next week.”

“Apparently he changed it.”

Whatever was happening, everyone seemed determined not to be the person caught unprepared.

Elena watched the quiet commotion until the transplant coordinator appeared at the office door. “Ms. Hart?”

Elena followed her inside. The coordinator opened the file on her desk. “We’ve received your preliminary donor results. The remaining tests will be scheduled over the next few days.”

Elena nodded. “And if I’m a match?”

“We’ll begin preparing for the transplant.” The coordinator reached for a folder beside her and pulled out a printed sheet. “This is the estimated cost of the procedure, the post-operative care, and the medication your mother will need afterward.” She placed it gently on the desk and turned it toward Elena.

Elena lowered her eyes. A number sat neatly at the bottom of the page. She read it once, then again. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the paper. It wasn’t just expensive. It was beyond anything she had imagined.

Her mind went immediately to the money she and Ethan had been putting aside for the wedding—months of saving, cutting back, postponing things they wanted, telling themselves it would all be worth it when the day finally came. She knew exactly how much was in that account. She also knew it wouldn’t cover this. Not even close.

Elena lowered the paper slowly. “Is this what I would have to pay?”

“This is the estimated cost. There may be additional expenses depending on the transplant and your mother’s recovery.”

Elena swallowed and quietly slid the sheet into her bag. For the first time since she’d heard the word transplant, the possibility of losing her mother stopped feeling like something that belonged to the future. It felt frighteningly close.

Outside, hurried footsteps crossed the corridor again. She glanced toward the glass panel in the door. “What exactly is going on out there? It feels like everyone’s waiting for someone.

The coordinator closed the file. “They are. The Ashbourne Foundation is here for an inspection. Mr. Damien Ashbourne.”

Elena looked back through the glass. “I didn’t know one person could make an entire hospital this nervous.”

A quiet laugh escaped the coordinator. “It isn’t nerves. It’s respect. He funds part of our renal programme.”

Elena’s gaze lingered on the corridor. “The transplant programme?”

“Yes.”

Hope flickered across Elena’s face before she could stop it. “Would my mum qualify?”

The coordinator hesitated. “I can’t promise that. There are far more applications than available funding. But if you don’t apply, the answer is already no.”

“Where can I get the form?”

“Administration.”

Forty minutes later, Elena laid the completed application on the reception counter. Every line had been filled carefully. Every document attached.

The administrator reached for the file. Before he touched it, another employee hurried in. “They’re heading this way.”

The administrator looked toward the corridor. His face tightened. He pushed the application back. “I’m sorry. We’ve suspended Foundation submissions until today’s inspection is over.”

Elena stared at him. “You’ve suspended them?”

“It’ll only be for today.”

“My mother doesn’t have ‘today.’”

The administrator looked away. “I’m sorry.”

Elena lowered her eyes to the application, then placed it back on the counter without another word. “I’m not asking you to approve it.”

“I’m not allowed to receive it.”

“You don’t have to.” She slid it forward. “Just leave it there. If Mr. Ashbourne decides my mother doesn’t qualify, I’ll accept that. But I won’t accept someone else making that decision for him.”

The administrator didn’t move. Neither did the application.

Elena adjusted the strap of her bag. “Unless Mr. Ashbourne himself tells me no.”