Thomas was awake when Maya entered his room, but he looked exhausted. A monitor beeped quietly beside the bed. Adrian sat near the window with a folder of medical and legal paperwork.
Maya approached slowly.
"Jordan said you wanted to see me."
Thomas smiled faintly.
"I did."
He explained that his heart condition had worsened and that doctors were considering treatment options. He wasn't necessarily dying, but the hospitalization reminded him that time could no longer be taken for granted.
"I've spent eleven years promising myself I'd fix things tomorrow," he said.
Maya sat beside him.
"What decision are you making?"
Thomas looked toward Adrian.
"I want to establish a fund to help former Bellhaven workers and their families."
Maya frowned.
"I thought you had nothing left."
"Almost nothing. But there are unresolved assets from my father's estate and a small ownership interest that may still have value."
Adrian explained that the fund would require careful legal administration and could not depend on uncertain litigation proceeds. Thomas wanted any money recovered through his remaining interests to support legal assistance, emergency housing, and vocational training.
Maya listened quietly.
"Why tell me?"
"Because I want you on the advisory board."
She shook her head.
"I'm a cook."
Thomas smiled.
"Your mother was a seamstress."
The words stopped her.
He continued.
"She understood what families needed because she lived beside them. So do you."
Maya looked toward Adrian.
"I don't know anything about managing a fund."
"You can learn," the attorney said. "And you'd have qualified professionals handling legal and financial administration."
She hesitated.
Thomas reached for her hand.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me."
"I know."
"I'm asking you to help me do something useful with what remains."
Maya thought about the community food program, the neighborhood meetings, and the families facing displacement.
Then she nodded.
"I'll help, but only if it's transparent. Public reporting. Independent oversight. No secret arrangements."
Thomas laughed weakly.
"Your mother would have demanded exactly that."
He squeezed her hand.
For several minutes, they sat in silence.
Then Thomas spoke again.
"There's something I never told anyone about Evelyn's last visit."
Maya leaned forward.
"What?"
"She came to see me after the factory closed. She was sick, but she wasn't asking for money."
"What did she want?"
Thomas's eyes filled with tears.
"She wanted me to promise that if I ever found you or Jordan struggling, I would help without making you feel ashamed."
Maya looked away.
She remembered offering him the sandwich behind the diner.
He had recognized her face and her mother's words.
And perhaps, without knowing it, she had fulfilled the promise he was still trying to keep.