The doctor's words hung in the sterile air of his office.
"End-stage renal disease."
He was talking about my son, Leo. My six-year-old son. He said Leo needed a kidney transplant, immediately.
My wife, Jessica, collapsed into my side, her sobs shaking her whole body. I held her, but my mind was already moving, calculating, processing. This was a problem, and problems have solutions.
We tested the whole family. My parents, my brother, me. The results came back a week later.
There was only one match.
My younger brother, Kevin.
We all gathered at my father Frank's house, the same small house I grew up in before I made my first million. The air was thick with cheap beer and desperation.
Kevin sat across from me, a smug look on his face. He was a high school football coach, always living in my shadow, always jealous. Now, he held all the cards.
"I'll do it," he said, leaning forward. "But it's going to cost you, Alex."
My father, Frank, a man who never once told me he was proud of me, nodded in agreement. "Your brother is risking his life, Alex. It's only fair."
I stayed silent, just watching him.
"I want the vacation home in Florida," Kevin started, ticking points off on his fingers. "Two million dollars, cash. And... twenty percent of your company."
Jessica gasped. My stepmother, Brenda, Kevin's mom, put a comforting hand on his arm, a look of saintly pride on her face.
"That's not a price," I said, my voice flat. "That's extortion."
"It's the price of your son's life!" Jessica shrieked, her face streaked with tears. "Alex, please! Just give it to him! What is money compared to Leo?"
The whole family stared at me, their collective weight pressing down. My father, my stepmother, my brother, my wife. All of them waiting for me to save the son I adored.
I looked Kevin dead in the eye.
"No."