Not arranging legal documents.
Preparing the greenhouse.
George and Maria helped display our healthiest plants.
In the center, I placed a simple wooden table with blooming columbines and a framed photograph of Genevieve.
At two, a luxury sedan turned into the drive.
It looked absurd against the old greenhouse.
Dad got out first.
His suit hung differently on him now.
Mom followed, pearls at her throat, her expression carefully controlled.
Asher came last.
He looked tired.
They walked inside.
For a moment, no one spoke.
They had seen the greenhouse as a ruin.
They had not seen what it had become.
Dad’s gaze moved across the new benches, irrigation lines, rows of plants, and restored glass.
Then he saw George.
Then Maria.
Asher stopped beside him.
Dad looked at me.
“This has gone on long enough.”
I waited.
“You’ve made your point,” he continued. “Now it’s time to behave like a reasonable adult.”
“I have been.”
“This?” His hand moved toward the greenhouse. “This is not reasonable. Terillux is threatening legal action. Asher’s contract is being terminated. They want part of the purchase price returned. Do you understand what you have done?”
“I built a business.”
“This is a protest.”
“No.”
I looked around.
“This is Whitmore Gardens.”
His face tightened.
Mom stepped in.
“We secured our future, Willow. We made a business decision. You are punishing everyone because you didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t sell the company.”
“You are sabotaging the sale.”
“I’m using property you gave me.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is the property where the name began.”
Asher lowered himself onto a bench.
For the first time since arriving, he looked less angry than exhausted.
“It’s over,” he muttered.
Dad turned toward him.
“Asher.”
“He already knows.”
Asher rubbed both hands over his face.
“Terillux is auditing everything. They think Dad knew about the clause and didn’t disclose it.”
“I didn’t know about it,” Dad snapped.
“I know.”
Asher looked at me.
“They’re still saying the warranties in the sale agreement make it our problem.”
Our problem.
A few months earlier, I had not been included in their sale.
Now suddenly it was our problem.
Asher’s eyes met mine.
“Why are you doing this to us? We’re family.”
The words did not make me angry.
That surprised me most.
I looked at him.
Then Mom.
Then Dad.
“You stopped treating me like family long before the sale.”
Mom flinched.
I continued.
“You made the biggest decision in the history of this business without me. Then you handed me this property as a joke.”
“It was not a joke,” Dad said.
“Asher laughed.”