“You turned down a twenty-million-dollar cash buyout,” Caleb remarked, his voice echoing against the high ceilings as he surveyed the dusty interior with utter disdain. “You’re preserving this decaying pile of bricks purely out of spite.”
I stood behind the central cutting table, where the red silk dress rested securely inside a museum-grade glass display case.
“I didn’t do this out of spite, Caleb,” I replied calmly. “I kept it because your father spent forty years inside these very walls pouring his soul into his craft while mourning the daughter he couldn’t save.”
Caleb paused in front of the glass enclosure, staring intently at his twin sister’s dress. For the first time, his cold corporate armor visibly fractured.
“He abandoned us,” Caleb whispered, his voice suddenly shedding its powerful developer facade to sound like a wounded child. “After the fire… he couldn’t even bear to look at me.”
