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The workshop air turned cold, tasting sharply of pine sawdust and old motor oil. My pulse hammered in my throat, rhythmic and heavy as a war drum. Thirteen years in Army intelligence had taught me one fundamental rule: never panic when trapped, but always assume the threat is lethal. / Chapter 6 / 10

Chapter 6 - Dad’s Final BlueprintI unfolded the heavy parchment paper. The scent of cedar and pipe tobacco immediately rose from the page.

My dearest Emma,

If you’re reading this, it means Harold finally opened the blue file, and my worst fears about Grant and Vanessa came to light. I am sorry I couldn't protect you from their greed while I was alive. I tried to buy them off, tried to fix things quietly, but a rotten foundation cannot be saved with a fresh coat of paint.

You spent thirteen years protecting people overseas, Captain. Now it's time to protect what we built right here at home. The house is yours. The workshop is yours. Use my tools, use your strength, and remember what I taught you when you were ten years old:

Measure twice. Cut once. Never compromise on integrity.

Love, Dad.

A single tear slipped down my cheek, catching the morning light before falling onto the paper. I folded the letter carefully and placed it inside my pocket.

My phone buzzed on the table. It was an encrypted email from my former commanding officer at Army Intelligence, offering me a position as a senior security consultant for federal infrastructure projects in Chicago.

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