The Empty Chair

The truth was worse. At 6:02 a.m., Evelyn Marsh had called him personally. Her voice had been calm, expensive, and exhausted. "Mr. Carter, I need someone who knows the roster, the books, and the draft board. Everyone above you is gone, conflicted, or negotiating severance. Can you keep the department operating for a week?" Daniel had said yes because no one in his family had ever been close enough to an NBA decision to refuse one. By noon, a week became training camp. By three, a league memo listed him as interim general manager. By five, ESPN's Calvin Roarke leaned into a studio camera and smiled like a man smelling blood. "The Charlotte Hornets have officially lost their minds.