Alexander returned to the penthouse study at dusk, the weight of Olivia's absence pressing on him like a stone. He'd spent the day reviewing the Wynn Initiative's progress—grant proposals, trial data, memorial fund allocations—but each paper felt meaningless without her. Leo, now five, was asleep in his room, clutching the windflower locket Olivia had given him.
A soft knock at the door startled Alexander from his reverie. He glanced at the clock: 7:42 PM. Visitors were rare here.
“Come in," he called, voice tight.
Dr. Chen stepped through the doorway, eyes grave beneath his rimless glasses. He carried a slim leather portfolio and closed the door softly behind him. He seemed braced for confrontation.
“Alexander," Chen began, hands folded in front of him. “I owe you an explanation."
Al
