Sylvia arrived at the construction site. The sun was high in the sky but the site was still buzzing—cranes humming, steel beams clanking, men shouting over equipment. Dust filled the air.
She hadn't slept. Not on the flight from Canada. Not in the taxi. Not even during the long, miserable hours on the airport bench when her mind replayed every bad decision she had ever made. Elizabeth needed her parents together. That truth had attacked her relentlessly until it drove her into the plane. Evans could argue. He could disapprove. He could rant. But Sylvia was done sitting on the sidelines of her own life.
And Winn…
He still wasn't picking her calls.
He wasn't at the office. Reese's number had been busy. She hoped she would find him at the site.
She stepped onto the gravel paths of the construction site, weaving between workers hauling materials. And then she saw Ivy.
She lifted her hand in a small wave.
Ivy's head snapped toward her. Her eyes widened—lit up.
