Vanessa
My father is still there, standing. Taking up too much space in a place that already feels small for me, but I… I’m not entirely here anymore. Because his voice… His tone… It pulls me back.
Toward a memory I haven’t wanted to touch in days.
…
It was an elegant room, the light warm… Glasses in the hands of people who smile too much.
And him, Ethan. Standing, talking to someone about a project, about the need for someone with a specific profile, strategic, decisive for his company. Someone who understands how to navigate between companies, between interests. I listened from a few steps behind.
Without interrupting, without being invited, but… interested. Always interested. I took a step forward.
“I can be that person.”
He turned, looked directly at me, analyzing, as he alway
