When he awakened again a bit later, the man in the suit sat beside his bed. A nurse adjusted his IV bag and exited the room. The man stood.
"Do you remember me, son?" His voice was gentle.
Harry hesitated, then shook his head. The truth was he had never really seen the man.
"I'm your uncle. Mason, Mason Jackson. Your father's younger brother."
There was a softness in Mason's voice, but it was steel beneath.
"You survived the crash, Harry. Your father did not. It was a private jet—engine failure in flight. You were the only person that got pulled out alive."
Harry was silent, but he continued to observe the man.
Mason didn't seem like the scheming type. He didn't look fake in his sadness, but Harry had learned that appearances did not always tell the full story. He still remembered when his board of directors voted him out while shaking his hand.
"I'm aware this is a lot," Mason continued, "but the world did not slow down while you were out. Your father's death created a stir in the company. The stock dropped like a stone. Competitors—the ravenous bastards—are circling like vultures. The board of directors have no confidence in my leadership as interim chair. They want a new director. A younger one. Preferably you."
"Why me?" Harry asked hoarsely.
"Because you're the only one with the Jackson name and the legal heir to the largest block of shares. And because I believe in you."
Harry eyed him. "Or because you have no other choice?"
Mason gave a sad smile. "Both."
_____
"Does my mother know that I woke up?"
Mason stiffened. "No, not yet. I wanted to make sure you were stable first."
Harry nodded. "Then call her. She deserves to know."
"Only if you promise to help me survive the Board's circus."
Harry chuckled faintly. "Fine, you got yourself a deal buddy."
Ten minutes later, the door burst open.
"My baby!" Rachel Jackson (Harry's mother) charged in, disregarding protestations from Mason and the nurses.
Until she hugged her son so tightly it almost dislocated his shoulder.
"Mom... air..." Harry gasped.
"Oh god! I'm sorry!" she said, pulling back and wiping tears running down her cheeks. "You're awake. You're really here. When Mason said you were alive, I thought he was joking or delusional. I-I've been praying every day, Harry."
Harry smiled weakly at her.
"You look older," she whispered, as she brushed his hair. "Not just from the accident... something is different."
He didn't respond.