His mind was on the papers waiting on his desk.The deal in Pawtucket was finally closing, and once the signatures were collected, he’d be able to tell himself—again—that the long hours were worth it.
Worth the sacrifice.
Worth the silence.
He didn’t let himself think about the emails from his brother.Three of them.Each more frustrated than the last.
Dad’s asking for you again.
The nurse says he’s been confused at night.Keeps saying he wants to talk to you.
Thomas, for God’s sake, just call him.
Thomas pushed the thoughts aside—hard.His father had made his choices years ago.Harsh words, bitter accusations about abandoning the family business… he’d made it clear Thomas wasn’t a son to be proud of.
Fine.
Thomas had learned how to live without his approval.How to thrive without it.
He unlocked his office door and flipped on the desk lamp.The soft pool of light illuminated the stacks of documents, neatly arranged just as he’d left them.
He sat, pulled the first folder toward him, and opened his laptop.
Five minutes later, he heard footsteps in the hallway.
Slow.Heavy.Unhurried.
He glanced at the time.10:42 p.m.The building was usually empty by nine, but the night security guard sometimes wandered through, doing rounds.
Thomas didn’t look up at first.
But the footsteps paused just outside his door.
He frowned.
“Luis?”he called.“That you?”
Silence answered him.
Thomas looked up.
A man stood in the doorway.
Stocky.Shoulders broad beneath thin overalls.Hands loose at his sides.A baseball cap shadowed most of his face.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t move.
Just stared.
A small shiver wormed down Thomas’s spine.“This is private office space,” he said, trying for authority and landing somewhere closer to irritation.“You need to tell me what you’re doing here.”
Still nothing.
Thomas stood, pushing his chair back.“Listen, fellah—what is it you want?”
He took two steps toward the man.
