gathered in Father’s pale blue eyes, running down his lined cheeks, and onto the parchment. “Blair… I… I can’t accept this. How could you… how did you do this?”
“Because despite your silence ten years ago, you were the one who taught me how to read an architectural schematic,” I answered honestly, feeling the old, buried grief rise in my chest. “You were the one who took me to construction sites when I was eight years old and showed me how a foundation was poured. You gave me the only