“I’m busy.”
“With a child in Alabama?”
Wendell’s eyes lifted to the window.
Outside, beyond the porch light, a black sedan sat at the far end of the lane.
He had not heard it arrive.
Lorna followed his gaze.
Her face changed.
Lawson continued, “You’ve always had a weakness for dramatic discoveries. But whatever you think you found, it won’t help the company.”
Wendell stood slowly.
“What did you do?”
“I protected what you built.”
“You buried a man.”
“I buried a liability.”
Jaylen heard it.
So did Lorna.
The boy’s hands curled into fists on the table.
Lawson sighed.
“Listen carefully. The board meets tomorrow morning. By noon, you will no longer control Hayes Renewables. The federal contract will proceed under my leadership, with or without your dirt-road genius.”
Wendell went cold.
“You knew about Jaylen’s invention.”
Another pause.
Then Lawson said, “You really should teach your assistant better security.”
The line went dead.
A second later, headlights flared outside.
The black sedan began rolling toward the house.
Lorna grabbed Jaylen’s arm.
“Back room. Now.”
Wendell moved to the door.
But Jaylen did not run.
He looked at his unfinished power box on the counter. The cracked solar panel. The wires. The little homemade controllers blinking faintly under battery charge.
Then he looked at the window air conditioner rattling above the sink.
“What are you doing?” Wendell asked.
Jaylen’s face had changed.
The frightened boy was gone.
In his place stood the mechanic from the dirt road, the engineer from the shed, the son of a man whose warning had been ignored.
“Bad connections,” Jaylen whispered.
He grabbed two wires from the table and ran to the breaker panel near the pantry.
Lorna shouted his name, but he was already moving.
The sedan stopped outside.
Car doors opened.
Two men stepped into the yard.
Wendell recognized one of them from corporate security.
The other carried a metal case.
Jaylen twisted copper into place, flipped one breaker halfway, then another. The kitchen lights flickered. The old fan clicked faster. The window unit groaned.
“Jaylen!” Lorna cried.
“Trust me, Mama.”
The porch boards creaked.
A fist pounded on the door.
“Mr. Hayes,” a man called. “We need you to come with us.”
Wendell reached for his phone.
No signal.
Jaylen smiled without humor.
“They brought a jammer.”
Wendell stared at him.
“How do you know that?”
