The kitchen was so quiet you could hear the distant murmur of the jazz trio outside, playing as if the world hadn't just tilted on its axis. Grant stared at the single sheet of thick parchment resting against the cold Italian marble. His breath caught, a shallow, ragged hitch that gave away his panic before his voice ever could.

The restaurant in downtown Greenwich was small, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of burning cedar and roasted pine nuts. Marcus chose a corner booth away from the main dining room, where the hum of conversation was low enough to allow for actual thought.

"You're quiet tonight," Marcus observed, setting down his menu. He leaned back against the plush velvet bench, watching me with an intensity that didn't feel invasive, only focused. "Usually, when people look at architectural blueprints for a twenty-acre estate, they either look terrified or overly ambitious."

"I'm neither," I replied, tracing the rim of my water glass. "I just know what happens when you build something on top of rotting wood. You can paint the exterior however you like, but eventually, the weight catches up to the structure."

Marcus smiled, a slow, genuine expression that reached his eyes. "Grant Whitmore?"

I didn't flinch at the name. It felt distant now, like a character in a poorly written paperback I had read years ago. "He spent so much time convincing everyone he was an architect of industry when he was barely qualified to carry the bricks. People like that always forget that reality has a way of showing up with an audit."

"Well," Marcus said, sliding a thick leather portfolio across the table toward me. "Unlike your ex-husband, I brought actual blueprints. These aren't stage props. The winter garden restoration uses reinforced steel framing and triple-paned glass designed to withstand a New England nor'easter. No illusions. Just physics and design."

I opened the folder. Inside were meticulously inked drawings of the greenhouse and terrace at Hawthorne House, designed to blend seamlessly with the historic stone while modernizing its endurance. Every line was precise, every load-bearing calculation accounted for.