By page seven, my hands were cold.
The old workshop would be demolished. The apprenticeship floor would disappear. In its place: luxury riverfront condos, a residents-only coffee bar, and a small scholarship display using the Callaway name.
The worst part was hidden near the end.
Damon would receive a personal consulting fee if the deal closed.
He wasn’t protecting Grandpa’s legacy.
He was selling it.
PART 2
I called Luis Alvarez, one of Grandpa’s former apprentices. He now supervised emergency pump maintenance for hospitals and still volunteered at the workshop.
When I asked about Mercer Lane Development, he went quiet.
“People are talking,” he said. “Someone toured the block last week.”
Then his voice dropped.
“Jasmine, that place saved my life. Please don’t let them turn it into lobby decoration.”
After that call, I stopped thinking like the daughter no one listened to. I started thinking like an engineer.
