Ruiz Brothers Workshop.”
“That was Granddad’s idea.”
“What’s yours?”
Nobody had asked me that.
I looked around the kitchen.
Mom was sewing a loose button onto Dad’s shirt.
Veronica had brought pastries from the bakery.
Derek waited quietly.
And I realized the inheritance question had always been wrong.
I did not want half of a workshop.
I wanted a reason to stop living like my family existed mainly through phone calls and bank transfers.
“I could handle the business side,” I said.
Derek blinked.
“What?”
“Books. Contracts. Pricing. Tax planning.”
“
