Page 116 of Money Reigns

I look down, then back up.

“Peonies,” I whisper. “Blush pink ones.”

Warren nods once. “Noted.”

And I don’t know why, but I believe him.

That he’ll remember.

That I’ll come home one day and they’ll be there.

Waiting.

My heart shouldn’t flutter.

It does anyway.

We walk in silence for a while, the gravel path winding beneath our feet. The wind teases a loose strand of hair into my face, and I tuck it back, needing something,anything,to keep myself grounded.

So I ask.

“So when you renovate the Parker Building… are you going to do something with it?”

His gaze shifts, but he doesn’t stop walking.

“Like what?” he asks.

“I don’t know. A plaque, maybe. Something for Noah?”

He hums. “Maybe.”

Then, after a pause:

“Perhaps.”

It should be a non-answer, but something in the way he says it feels loaded. Like the thoughts behind it are heavy. Sharp-edged.

He stops near a bench tucked beneath a weeping cherry tree, pink blossoms raining down around us, and sits. I stay standing.

“You know,” he says, eyes fixed forward, “you and my brothers are the only people who know the truth about the Parker Building.”

I frown, sitting beside him now, the breeze curling around my legs.

“I mean, I know of it,” I say gently. “I know it was a tragic moment for you. But I’m not sure I understand the full significance.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

Then:

“It’s the biggest stain I ever left on my family’s name.”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

His jaw clenches. His hands are resting on his thighs, but I can see the tension crawling up his arms.

“‘Beaumont’s child gets foster kid killed in abandoned building on the outskirts of town.’That was the headline.”

I feel my breath catch.