Chapter 11 - The Echoes of the Past
Late one evening, after the office had emptied out and the city below had settled into a humming blur of headlights and streetlamps, Mariana stayed behind to review the final audit summaries.
The heavy oak door to her office clicked open softly.
Marcus stepped inside, carrying two cups of black coffee, setting one down gently beside her keyboard before pulling up a chair.
"You're working late again, Mija," Marcus noted gently, studying her expression. "The board voted unanimously today to approve the European expansion. You've won every battle on this warpath, Mariana. So why do you still look like there's an unresolved chord?"
Mariana sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she stared into the dark coffee. "I don't regret a single thing I did, Dad. Andrew deserved to lose everything. Margaret deserved to be humbled. But sometimes... it's exhausting realizing how easy it was for them to throw away four years of what I thought was real life."
Marcus reached across the desk, placing his weathered, warm hand over hers.
"You didn't lose four years of real life, Mariana," Marcus said firmly. "You survived an audit. You spent four years observing the worst kind of human nature so that when the test came, you didn't hesitate."
He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"People like Andrew and Brenda—they don't know how to love. They only know how to consume. You gave them a kingdom, and they tore it down because they couldn't figure out how to rule it without a queen to blame."
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Mariana looked up at her father, feeling the last lingering weights of bitterness dissolve from her chest. He was right. She wasn't a victim seeking vengeance; she was an architect correcting a structural flaw.
"You're right," Mariana whispered, a genuine, radiant smile finally breaking across her face. "It's time to stop looking in the rearview mirror."
