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The light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow over Dad’s weary face. I pulled the chair closer, taking his fragile hand in mine. His skin felt like thin paper, and his grip was gentle but determined.
“Dad, we had the community meeting yesterday,” I began. “The whole neighborhood’s standing with us. We’re not going to let them bulldoze everything Mom worked so hard for.”
His eyes, though dulled by sickness, sparked with a familiar fire. “That center… it’s where your mother’s heart beat the strongest.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “I know, Dad. That’s why I’m fighting so hard. We owe it to her—to everyone—to keep it alive.”
He squeezed my hand, and a smile creased his pale face. “Your mother would be proud,” he whispered.
The mention of Mom stirred a well of memories—her laughter echoing in the halls of the center, her arms always open for anyone who needed them.
Dad’s voice broke through my reverie. “Tell me about this man… Cassius Portman.”
My pulse quickened at the name, and I hesitated. How did he always know? “He’s… complicated,” I admitted.
“Complicated?” Dad arched an eyebrow. “Mila, your voice dances when you say his name—even if you’re trying to sound cross.”
I laughed despite myself. “Dad, he might be trying to tear down everything we hold dear.”
“But?”
“But…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain the magnetic pull between Cassius and me—the way my world seemed to tilt on its axis whenever he was near.
Dad’s gaze held mine, brimming with understanding that belied his frailty. “But he stirs something in you,” he concluded.
I couldn’t deny it; Dad always saw right through me. With Cassius, it was like fighting a wildfire—dangerous and unpredictable but impossible to walk away from.
“Yeah,” I conceded softly. “He does.”
He gave me that knowing look, the one that crumbled all my defenses. “He’s just… an adversary, Dad. The man standing between us and saving the community center.”
“Is that all he is?” Dad’s voice was a soft challenge, prodding the edges of my neatly packaged lies.
I avoided his gaze, focusing on the threadbare blanket covering his legs. “Yes, that’s all,” I insisted, my voice steadier than I felt. “He represents everything we’re fighting against. His project could destroy what Mom built.”
Dad hummed, the sound laden with skepticism. “Mila, I raised a daughter who sees the heart of things. You can’t fool your old man.”
I let out a sigh and met his eyes again. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that. We shared… a moment, that’s true. But it doesn’t change who he is or what he’s planning to do.”
“And what are you planning to do?” Dad’s question hung in the air between us.
“I’m going to show him the community center,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “I’ll make him see why it matters.”
“And if he sees more than just the center?” Dad asked gently.
My heart skipped a beat, betraying me. “Then I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” I forced a smile, hoping to reassure both of us.
Dad nodded slowly. “Just be careful, Mila. Your mother… she had a big heart, but she knew how to protect it too.”
I stood up from the chair, smoothing the blanket over Dad’s legs once more. “I will be,” I promised, though my own heart thudded with uncertainty.
Chapter Seventeen
Cassius
I pulled up to the community center, my gaze drawn to the weathered brick facade that seemed to hold a century’s worth of stories. My heart thrummed with a peculiar anticipation; it wasn’t the building that intrigued me, but rather the fiery woman who’d promised to reveal its secrets.
