Evan's mood stayed surprisingly good after getting off the train. He and Emily Warren had swapped numbers, promised to grab dinner if they ever crossed paths again, and the fact that his very first fan happened to be a beautiful girl definitely didn't hurt.
That light, buoyant feeling lasted… right up until he reached the hospital.
A cluster of relatives was gathered near his father's room, arguing loudly in the hallway.
Evan moved in fast. "Hey—guys, come on. This is a hospital. You can't be shouting out here."
Using his size a little more than he intended to, he eased himself between the crowd and the door, blocking it with both arms.
Through the small window in the door, he saw his mom, Linda Carter, look visibly relieved. She'd been dealing with this chaos alone all morning.
And, of course, the people making the scene were exactly who he expected: his uncle's family.
Evan exhaled a slow breath. Great.
His second uncle, James Carter, had a reputation that everyone in the family understood all too well. To put it kindly, he was "opportunistic." To put it normally: he chased leverage wherever he could find it and latched on hard.
Frank had explained in the past how, when Redline Games started getting attention, James suddenly "reconnected," asking for a job, then shares, then a director position. Frank hadn't wanted to cause a family fight and ended up giving James the tiniest sliver of stock and a role that was basically decorative.
Thinking about all that gave Evan a headache already, but he kept his tone neutral.
"Uncle James," he said, "you came to see Dad, right? I get that. But the doctor asked for complete rest. We can talk about whatever else later. Just… keep the noise down, okay?"
James gave him a slow, evaluating look. He was a short man with an easy lifestyle and the kind of pale, comfortable appearance that should've been harmless—except for his eyes. His eyes were sharp in a way that made everyone uncomfortable.
"You got back quick," James said. "Last I checked, you haven't even graduated. Is this how you treat school now—leaving whenever you feel like it?"
"I took approved leave," Evan replied. "My advisor signed off on it. It's really not a big deal. What is a big deal is shouting in the ICU wing."
James huffed. "You go to college for a few years and think you're better than everyone."
"I'm not trying to be anything," Evan said evenly. "I'm just asking you to respect the rules here. Dad needs rest. That's all."
James's jaw tensed. "I'm here because I have something important to discuss with him. Something that concerns the future of the company."
"Then it can wait until he's allowed visitors." Evan held his ground. "Right now, nobody goes in. Not even me."
James stepped forward like he might push past him. Evan didn't move.
"Uncle James," he said quietly, "if you try to force your way in, I'll call for help, and security will escort all of us out of the building. I really don't want that to happen. So let's give it a couple days, okay?"
James stared at him for a long moment, breathing hard through his nose.
Finally, he turned to his family. "We're leaving."
He walked a few steps, then paused and looked back over his shoulder.
"Tell your dad this—Redline Games isn't just his. If he wants to drive it into the ground, he's not taking the rest of us down with him."
Evan kept his expression calm. "I'll pass on the message. Drive safe going home."
James stiffened, shot him a final glare, then stormed off.
Evan waited until the hallway was quiet again before he slipped into the room and shut the door behind him.
His mom sat beside Frank's bed, her hands folded and tight.
Frank lay asleep, pale but peaceful.
Evan lowered his voice. "Mom… what happened to the company?"
Linda sighed. "I didn't want you worrying before you even got here."
She took a moment before explaining.
While he'd been away at school, Frank had been pushing Redline Games forward. They'd started with text-based titles, then visual-novel-style games. Small projects, but enough to build a niche audience. The company grew slowly but steadily.
But Frank had bigger dreams.
He'd wanted to shift Redline toward a full adventure game, maybe even action–adventure, something more ambitious than anything they'd touched before.
Evan looked at his father, asleep and looking older than he remembered.
He knew Frank loved game development, but he hadn't realized he was chasing something this big so late in life.
"So… the project failed?" Evan asked quietly.
Adventure games were expensive. Action–adventure titles? Practically impossible for a small studio. You needed animators, designers, combat programmers—teams. And money. A lot of money.
Linda nodded. "Your father took out loans. Big ones. He wanted Redline to finally break out."
Then came the worst part.
"Your uncle recommended someone," she said. "A lead designer. Said he came from a big studio in Harborview City. Had a great résumé, great credentials, past work… everything."
Frank had trusted the recommendation. He'd been excited. Hopeful.
"But the man was a fraud," Linda said softly. "Every part of the project—the framework, the maps, the core systems—was plagiarized from his old company. We didn't find out until a demo was finished. The moment we realized, everything had to be shut down."
The investment, the loans, months of work—it all evaporated.
Linda wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Your father worked himself sick."
Evan exhaled slowly.
Then something clicked.
"Okay… but why is Uncle James being so aggressive now? He recommended the guy. Shouldn't he be lying low?"
Linda's face tightened.
"Because BrightPeak Interactive sent a proposal this morning. They want to acquire Redline Games. Your uncle is the one overseeing the negotiations."
Evan blinked.
"What?"
She nodded, anger flickering behind her eyes.
"He told me, 'The company's unsalvageable anyway. Better to sell what's left and walk away.' Those were his exact words."
Evan felt something cold settle in his chest.
His dad's life's work—everything he'd built—was now hanging by a thread.
And the people circling it weren't trying to save it.
They were trying to pick it clean.