Later that evening, the house was quiet except for the soft tapping of Abigail's fingers on her laptop keyboard.
She sat at the small desk in her home office, surrounded by papers, graphs, and reports.
The glow from the screen lit up her face, showing the tired lines around her eyes, but also the sharp focus that hadn't faded even after the long day.
Jerry knocked lightly on the open door before stepping in, two cups of steaming chamomile tea in his hands.
"You've been at it for hours," he said quietly, placing one cup beside her.
Abigail gave a small smile, wrapping her hands around the warm cup gratefully.
"I can't stop now," she said. "If I don't strengthen this proposal, i could lose everything my mother built."
Jerry pulled a chair closer and sat beside her, not offering advice yet, just listening.
Abigail sipped her tea and started talking, her words coming faster the more she thought aloud.
