I had a message from my brother telling me not to come back.
So I followed her to the city—not out of obsession, just survival.
My apartment was small, noisy, and barely functional—but it was mine.
Violet showed up with groceries and optimism I didn’t believe in.
“You need curtains,” she said.
“I need rent money,” I replied.
That’s how I met Rick—her grandfather.
The first time I visited his estate, I felt completely out of place.
The silverware alone intimidated me.
Rick noticed.
“Is there a reason you’re negotiating with the cutlery?” he asked.
That was the beginning.
After that, he spoke to me differently.
He listened.
He remembered things.
“You notice the price of everything before the beauty,” he once said.
“Because price decides what gets to stay beautiful,” I answered.
He smiled slightly.
“That’s either wisdom or sadness.”
“Probably both.”
Violet noticed the connection.
“Grandpa likes you,” she said.
“He likes that I say thank you,” I joked.
But one night, Rick asked something unexpected:
