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“Materials are locally sourced,” she goes on. “Everything is crafted right here and made with the best quality. Most products are in our house. The bed you sleep on, the plates you eat out of.”
“That’s awesome,” I gush, genuinely amazed.
Aunt Helena gestures for me to walk with her, and I smile and wave to the employees as we stroll through the place.
Reaching the other side, she opens the door, and I shadow her up the stairs to her colossal office. It’s quiet compared to what we left behind.
Natural light is bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows, emphasizing the sleek furniture and décor.
I mosey to the window and stand beside Aunt Helena, admiring the entire property, all the way to the water’s edge.
“Grandfather had his gentle moments with me,” I tell her. “But when it came to business and what he expected of you and my dad, he was tough.”
“Indeed,” she agrees. “Jeffrey Radcliff senior was a complex man. I understood his heart, though.”
I turn to her. “Thank you for showing me this place. I’m truly impressed.”
She hums, appearing delighted. “Good. There’s a place for you here, Cassie. You’re a Radcliff.”
Our surname carries so much weight, and I understand why my dad left it all behind. I don’t fault him. But I can’t help but wonder what our life would be like had we stayed.
