The sky was still dark gray as I made my way to Blackwood Tower. My heart raced as I grabbed the printout of the email in my backpack. It felt like walking with a bomb.
I did not sleep well the night before. Now I finally knew for sure, Alex Blackwood signed the papers that chased away my family's bakery decades ago.
Project Phoenix, his master plan to help out small businesses, now seemed ego-driven. Was it all just a show? Was there an ulterior motive?
I couldn't help but ask myself: How could the very same individual who looked at me with sincerely looking concern, who praised my work, be the one responsible for destroying the dream of my family?
Walking into this first meeting was like walking into a trap. How could I possibly face him after what I had discovered?
The 32nd floor w
