Chapter 25 - THE LAST STERLING GALA
Sterling Global eventually stopped holding “family legacy galas.”
Not because I banned them.
Because younger directors thought they were expensive.
Good.
The last one happened when Sophia was twenty-eight.
At the Bellweather.
She attended by choice.
Same ballroom.
Different ownership.
Different board.
I watched her enter.
She wore shoes.
That detail hit me before anything else.
Ridiculous.
She looked at the cake.
Then at me.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you remember me in a dumpster.”
“Trash cart.”
“Important distinction.”
“I’m precise.”
“You’re annoying.”
Elena would have approved.
During dinner, Sophia wandered toward the service corridor.
I followed.
She stopped where I had found her.
Nothing marked it.
Industrial tile replaced.
Waste stations moved.
She said:
“Was it here?”
“Approximately.”
“Do you remember what I was holding?”
“Yes.”
“Chicken bone?”
“Yes.”
She made a face.
“Gross.”
I laughed.
That response healed something I did not know remained.
The object had become gross.
Not sacred.
May you like
Not evidence.
Just gross.
