Beneath it is the authorization line. CEO Signature.
I flip through more pages: market analysis, environmental impact assessment, projected construction timeline. It's all here.
Every detail of how O'MalleyMart plans to acquire and destroy the building I've been trying to save.
I've known for months that his company had plans to replace the building.
But seeing the authorization line made it feel immediate.
I'm standing there with the documents in my hands when I hear Seamus's phone ring in the kitchen. His voice carries through the penthouse—he must have answered on speaker while he's making coffee.
"Seamus, it's Malcolm." The voice is clipped, efficient. "Just confirming you received the evaluation package. We need your sign-off before the board meeting."
"I have it." Seamus sounds tired. "I'll review it."
"Good. The timeline's critical now. We've already had three delays on this project, and the investors are getting nervous. If we don't move forward with the Heritage Street acquisition in the next thirty days, we risk losing momentum entirely."
There's a pause. I should move, should go back to my studio.
My feet won't move.
"The building has historical significance," Seamus says quietly. "There's community opposition. We should consider—"
"We've considered everything we need to consider." Malcolm's voice hardens. "This is business, Seamus. Not a preservation society. The building is in the way of a development that will generate significant revenue and revitalize an entire district. You know this. Your father would have had this approved months ago."
Another pause. Longer this time. "My father isn't running the company anymore."
"No, but the board is watching how you run it. And right now, they're seeing hesitation when they need to see leadership."
Malcolm's tone shifts, becomes almost gentle—which somehow makes it worse. “Look, the board is still worried about you,” Malcolm says carefully. “With your marriage, they expected it to stabilize perception. Not introduce new variables.”
"What's that supposed to mean?" Seamus's voice has gone very quiet.
"It means we needed you stable, not sentimental. The company comes first, Seamus. It always has. It always will. That's what being CEO means."
I hear footsteps—Seamus pacing, probably. "I'm aware of my responsibilities."
"Then prove it. Sign the evaluations. Let Graham move forward with the acquisition. Show the board that you can separate your professional obligations from your... domestic situation."
The call ends. I hear Seamus set his phone down with a sharp click, and then silence.
I'm back in my studio before I fully register moving, the documents still somehow in my hands. I set them down on my drafting table, and they sit there next to my illustration of Mira and her impossible garden—the girl who believes things can grow even when everything is working against them.
My chest feels tight, like something is constricting around my ribs.
They’re ready to move forward. All they need is him.
I think about Luna's words at the spa:What if you're confusing gratitude with something else?
If he asked me to walk away from the storefront, I would.
And maybe he would choose me.
I heard the hesitation in his voice.
But if he did, what would that make me?
The reason his board doubts him?
