Chapter 5 - The Secret BoxBack at the penthouse, Jenna was settling into the guest suite next to Tyson’s room—a room Mrs. Gable had quickly transformed with warm blankets, fairy lights, and a stack of adventure books.
Warren knocked gently on the open door and stepped inside. Jenna was sitting cross-legged on the massive white bed, sorting through her backpack.
“How are you holding up?” Warren asked softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
“I like it here,” Jenna admitted, though her eyes were serious. “It’s warm. And Mrs. Gable makes pancakes that taste like heaven. But... I miss my drawings.”
“Your drawings?”
Jenna reached into the very bottom of her backpack and pulled out a battered, waterproof plastic sleeve. Inside were dozens of architectural sketches—not of professional buildings, but of treehouses, secret bridges, and magical castles.
Warren took the sleeve, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened in absolute astonishment.
“Jenna... did you draw these?”
“Tyson and I used to dream them up,” she explained, pointing to a sketch of a massive treehouse connected by rope bridges. “He said his dad built boring skyscrapers with glass walls. But we wanted to build things that let people touch the trees and see the stars.”
Warren stared at the sketches. The spatial awareness, the creative geometry, the raw imaginative genius in a seven-year-old’s pencil strokes were undeniable. She didn't just like building; she had a natural gift that most senior architects spent decades trying to cultivate.
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“Tyson had good taste in partners,” Warren whispered, a genuine smile breaking through his sorrow for the first time in a year. “You know... Tyson’s box had your name all over it in his memories. He talked about you every time he came home from the park.”
Jenna looked up, her brown eyes shining. “He told me his dad was the greatest man in the world. He just wished his dad knew it.”
