Samuel smiled.
He'd spent years trying to make that point.
Near the end of the tour, Faisal stopped beside the original switching station on Parcel Seven.
The structure wasn't impressive.
Metal cabinets.
Heavy cables.
Warning signs.
And machinery that hummed with an indifferent mechanical rhythm.
Amara pointed toward the building.
"My mother worked here."
Faisal looked toward her.
She continued.
"She helped design the system that protects the refrigerated warehouses when the power supply becomes unstable."
The billionaire studied the equipment.
For a moment, his expression softened.
Then he asked whether the system had been modernized.
Amara nodded.
"Parts of it. Other sections still need work."
Faisal looked toward the terminal.
For several seconds, he remained quiet.
Then said.
"My brother would've wanted to see this."
Amara looked toward him.
She could hear genuine regret in his voice.
And for the first time, she believed he was beginning to understand what his proposed acquisition meant beyond its purchase price.
The most difficult stop was a small medical support center funded partly through the community trust.
It occupied a converted office near the older residential blocks.
The center offered limited services to retired workers, families navigating insurance problems, and residents needing referrals to community health resources.
It wasn't a hospital.
It couldn't replace medical specialists or comprehensive care.
But it helped people who might otherwise struggle to obtain basic assistance.
The center's director, a Black American nurse in her early fifties, welcomed the visitors politely.
Then showed them the rooms that had recently been closed because of funding shortages.
One had served as a counseling office.
Another contained equipment that could no longer be maintained.
The director explained that the trust's delayed revenue had forced reductions in operating hours.
Faisal listened.
Then asked how much money the center needed to restore its previous schedule.
She answered.
The amount was small compared with the proposed acquisition.
But it was substantial for the trust.
For a moment, the billionaire seemed embarrassed.
He could authorize millions for advisers without hesitation.
Yet the neighborhood's support programs were struggling over sums that would barely appear in Crescent Horizon's financial projections.
He looked toward Mariam.
Then asked whether there were lawful ways to provide independent emergency charitable assistance without linking it to the trust's decision on the acquisition.
Mariam nodded.
"Potentially, with appropriate separation and transparency."
Amara immediately spoke.
"Any assistance mustn't be conditional on our vote."
Faisal looked toward her.
Then answered.
"Agreed."
For a moment, they studied each other.