**ONE YEAR LATER**
The penthouse was silent. The toys that once littered the floor were neatly organized in bins, untouched.
William sat in his home office, surrounded by architectural blueprints. He hadn’t stepped foot in Croft Enterprises headquarters in six months, delegating the daily operations to the board. His entire existence was now consumed by one thing: *The Vance Conservatory*.
It was to be a cathedral of glass and steel, a sanctuary for music in the heart of the city. He adjusted a line on the schematic, his eyes burning from lack of sleep.
“Papa?”
William stiffened. Leo, now two years old, stood in the doorway holding a stuffed lion. He had Victoria’s eyes.
“Not now, Leo,” William murmured, not looking up. “Papa is working.”
“Mama?” Leo asked, holding up the toy.
The word was a physical blow. William squeezed his drafting pencil until the wood snapped. He couldn’t look at the boy. Looking at Leo meant seeing her. Looking at Leo meant acknowledging the gaping hole in their lives.
“Go find Isabella,” William choked out.
He waited until the small footsteps faded away before he put his head in his hands, the blueprints blurring beneath him.