Father and Daughter Talk

Inside a room bathed in shades of gray and white, Caroline Blackwell pushed open the door. Her fingers trembled slightly against the handle, but she steadied herself, stepping aside as she murmured, "Come in."

The words left her lips with a hesitance that betrayed her nerves.

Behind her, a man stepped forward, his presence commanding yet silent. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, his expression unreadable as his sharp gaze scanned the space before him.

Her father.

Caroline watched as Alexander Blackwell entered the room. His movements were composed, measured—as they always were. He barely acknowledged her words at first, his eyes sweeping across the familiar surroundings.

"It's the room you had when you came here," she said quickly, her voice carrying the slightest edge of uncertainty. "I had Grandpa get it for me and renovated it."