He looked different now than he had in the frantic fluorescent glow of the intensive care unit; dressed in a sharp charcoal suit instead of surgical scrubs, he carried himself with the quiet ease of a man who had watched a long, dark night finally give way to morning.

“The board meeting wrapped up five minutes ago,” he said, sitting across from me and setting the folders down.

“Unanimous vote.

The medical research division is officially funded.

Ten million dollars, allocated for trauma and neonatal care initiatives across Illinois.”

I offered him a faint, genuine smile, the kind that reached my eyes, which had become rare and precious things over the last months.

“And the name?” I asked.