9. Ted stood in the sterile, dimly lit ICU

Ted stood in the sterile, dimly lit ICU, his gaze fixed on Gramps Jack lying lifelessly on the resuscitation table. The beeping machines around him were a stark reminder of how fragile life truly was, no matter how commanding or powerful someone might have been in their prime. The irony was suffocating, almost poetic—Gramps, who had built an empire with his strength and will, now reduced to this vulnerable state, his life dependent on the very machines he once dismissed as unnecessary for others.

The room had emptied out, the heavy silence punctuated only by the soft hum of medical equipment. A few hours ago, it had been bustling with relatives—Granny Jill with her nervous hands clasped tightly together, Aunt Rebecca pacing the floor, and the others exchanging whispers of worry. Vanessa had sat silently, her eyes glistening, while Russell and Patrick leaned against the wall, unsure how to react. But it was Granny Jill who had caught Ted’s attention the most. She looked fragile, almost haunted, as though the weight of the past had settled on her shoulders.

Granny Jill, who had once been thrown out of the estate with nothing but her dignity, was now here, her eyes betraying a complex mix of pain and concern. She hadn’t forgotten those years, but neither had she stopped caring for Jack, her childhood cousin who had grown into a hard, unforgiving man. It was strange to think that once upon a time, they had run barefoot across the ranch together, laughing and chasing dreams. Jack had been the golden boy, a cowboy who could lasso wild horses, a gunslinger with a reputation that inspired awe and fear. But did they admire him for who he was? Or was it merely his power they respected?

Ted couldn’t help but think about the stories of his father—how he had stood against Gramps, quietly defiant, driven by a sense of compassion that Jack could never understand. Ted’s father had helped a poor farmer with a large sum of money for his son’s heart surgery. It was an act of kindness, one that had enraged Gramps to the point of fury. "Is it your money?" Gramps had bellowed. "I worked hard for it. My empire is not for charity!"

But it hadn’t stopped there. Ted’s father had helped another family—this time, a young mother needing a Caesarean operation. Both mother and child had been saved, but the cost was high. That was when Gramps had drawn the line. He had thrown Ted’s father and his family off the ranch, cutting them off from the wealth and legacy he had so fiercely guarded. Ted had heard these stories growing up, the bitterness in his father’s voice evident even when he tried to hide it. Gramps Jack had built his empire, but at what cost? And now, here he was, at the mercy of the very compassion he had scorned.

Ted’s mind swirled as he stood by the bedside. Was this the natural arc of power and pride, to end up humbled in the face of mortality? He thought of Uncle AR’s words about the Creator, about how He is the one who moves all things—fire, water, even the human heart. Gramps had built his empire with his own hands, but in the end, none of it mattered. The empire couldn’t save him now. It was the care of others, the very thing he had dismissed, that now sustained his fragile life.

Ted leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Gramps," he said, though he wasn’t sure if Jack could hear him. "Do you see it now? The irony of it all? The empire, the power, the respect—it doesn’t mean anything if there’s no kindness, no love."

For a moment, Ted thought he saw Gramps’s fingers twitch, but it could have been his imagination. He looked up at the painted night sky through the small ICU window. It was filled with stars, the same stars that had seen Gramps lassoing wild horses, commanding respect, and banishing his own family. And yet, those stars also saw him now, vulnerable and human, a reminder that time humbles everyone.

Ted clenched his fists, unsure whether to feel anger, pity, or something in between. The man lying before him had caused so much pain, and yet, he was still family. As Uncle AR always said, "The Creator forgives even the hardest hearts when they are ready to surrender." Was Gramps ready? Was this the moment of reckoning, where Jack would finally see that the empire he had built was nothing compared to the lives he had affected?

Ted sighed, stepping back as the door to the ICU opened. A nurse walked in, her expression neutral yet professional. Uncle AR wasn’t here yet, but when he arrived, Ted knew there would be more conversations, more questions. For now, he let the weight of the moment settle over him, the past and present colliding in the quiet hum of machines and the faint pulse of life.