Chapter 7 - Building BridgesMy career as an architect began to shift. The story of what I had done—standing up to the Mercers and proving their fraud—made me a hero to other women in the construction industry. I was approached to lead a new project: a community center for domestic violence survivors.
It was the most challenging project of my life, but the most rewarding. Every wall I designed, every open space I drafted, was intended to evoke feelings of safety and power.
One day, while I was on-site, I ran into someone from my past—Natalie, Diego’s sister, the one who had stopped him from attacking me further that night. She looked tired, aged by the stress of her family’s collapse.
"Valerie," she said, catching me by the construction trailer. "I... I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. For everything."
I looked at her. She wasn't one of the architects of the plot, but she had been silent for years. "Sorry doesn't fix a broken skull, Natalie. But it’s a start. Just stay away from your parents."
May you like
"I have," she whispered. "I changed my name. I’m moving to Chicago."
I felt a pang of pity, but I hardened my heart. I had learned the hard way that empathy is a resource that shouldn't be wasted on those who remain neutral while others suffer.
