Evelyn said it quietly.
Daniel looked at her.
“I know.”
“I came the first time because of the company.”
“I came back because…”
She stopped.
“I’m not good at this part.”
“Which part?”
“Not knowing exactly what something is.”
Daniel smiled.
“You’re CEO of a technology company.”
“Exactly.”
“You people put names on everything.”
“We do.”
“Roadmaps.”
“Yes.”
“Frameworks.”
“Yes.”
“Deliverables.”
“Unfortunately.”
Daniel looked toward the dark oak.
“I don’t know what this is either.”
Evelyn exhaled.
“That helps.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid you did.”
He turned.
She met his eyes.
“I don’t want to arrive in your life because you were vulnerable.”
“I don’t want to confuse gratitude with something else.”
“Good.”
“That was not the response I expected.”
Daniel leaned back.
“I’ve thought about it too.”
“And?”
“I don’t feel grateful to you.”
Evelyn blinked.
Daniel smiled.
“I appreciate what you did.”
“That’s different.”
“Oh.”
“Good.”
She laughed.
“Terrible man.”
“So I’ve heard.”
A pause.
Then Evelyn said:
“I’ve been here eleven times.”
“Twelve.”
She turned.
“Eleven.”
“You forgot the Thursday in July.”
“I stayed fifty minutes.”
“Counts.”
Evelyn smiled.
“Twelve.”
Inside, Lily slept with Biscuit beneath one arm and the bird guide open beside her.
The space in the original drawing had filled.
No one had planned it.
That mattered.
October brought rain.
Then Captain.
The orange tabby had been eating beneath Walt’s porch.
Skinny.
White patch beneath his chin.
Opinionated.
Lily discovered him.
Daniel immediately said no.
Evelyn said nothing.
That concerned him more.
Lily left a drawing on the refrigerator.
House.
Three people.
Orange cat.
The next day:
House.
Three people.
Orange cat.
Third day:
Orange cat enormous.
Humans tiny.
Daniel stared.
“This is propaganda.”
Evelyn drank coffee.
“I’m staying neutral.”
“You bought cat food.”
“It was raining.”
“You’re compromised.”
Captain moved in that weekend.
Lily named him.
No explanation.
He slept wherever Daniel least wanted him.
Project Lighthouse survived its first six months.
Not perfectly.
Some managers complained.
Some employees misunderstood what it offered.
A few requests were denied.
Daniel personally handled several difficult cases.
One involved an employee requesting permanent remote work for reasons the role could not reasonably support.
Daniel denied it.
The employee accused Lighthouse of hypocrisy.
Daniel listened.
Then offered transfer options.
Flexibility, he learned, did not mean saying yes.
It meant refusing to hide behind automatic no.
Arcturus began measuring retention.