As I searched beneath the collapsed garden, my hand struck a folder I hadn’t brought into the room. The cover bore Logan’s company logo. Inside were copies of my floor plans, except my name had been removed. A proposal said Reed Custom Build had created the West Bridge design and would be awarded the construction contract once it was approved.
The pages passed off my work as his company’s achievement. They also revealed that he’d already taken money from investors on the strength of that claim. I looked from the folder to Logan, and suddenly the cement made awful sense. If I showed the committee my original design first, his story might unravel.
“You stole my plans,” I said.
His expression changed. Mom stepped forward, not to deny it, but to explain it away. “Don’t make this bigger than it needs to be. Your brother was only trying to save his company.”
I reached into the mess and pulled free Grandpa’s brass plaque. I wiped it against my shirt, took photographs of the damage, and slipped Logan’s folder into my portfolio case beside my laptop. Mom called me dramatic as I walked out. I didn’t tell either of them about my backups or the camera above the shelf.
At the door I turned around once. “I understand everything now,” I said. Then I left with the only evidence they hadn’t thought to destroy, and a decision I was finally ready to make.
CHAPTER 2
I drove three blocks before I had to pull into an empty parking lot. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely put the car in park. I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and cried for the model, for Grandpa, and for the years I’d spent believing that if I helped my family enough, they might eventually love me in a way I could recognize.