Since Atlas's presence in the hospital only aggravated Stephen, Charles and Atlas chose to leave. Driving home with Atlas in the driver's seat and Charles in the front passenger seat, silence enveloped the two.
Charles glanced at his son, who hadn't said a word since they left. "Don't listen to that old fart. He was problematic during my time, and he's still problematic now that he's old and living off maintenance."
Still, Atlas didn't speak a word.
"Son," Charles sighed, a little worried about his eldest. "It's not your fault. You did what you did to protect the family and the company."
Charles pressed his lips into a thin line, assessing Atlas's unchanging side profile. All this time, Charles had completely stopped meddling in family and company affairs. The moment Atlas took a seat on the board, Charles purposely let everything go.
