Michael walked out of the hospital, the afternoon sun warming his face.
He was a new man. The fear, the doubt, the icy knot of dread that had been sitting in his stomach for the last twenty-four hours... it was gone, burned away by the simple, powerful loyalty of his manager.
He turned them down.
"We'll keep your seat warm, Gaffer," he whispered to himself, a fierce, protective, and deeply personal determination hardening his heart. He wasn't just doing this for himself anymore. He wasn't just doing it to beat his father. He was doing it for Arthur.
He strode onto the training ground at Oakwell, his step light, his mind clear. He was ready. He could face anything. He was ready to find Steve, the terrified interim manager, and fill him with the confidence of his manager's faith. He was ready to lead.
He turned the corner to his office corridor, a confident smile on his face, and stopped dead.
