Page 141 of Under Construction

Her hands cup his face, turning it side to side as she searches his eyes. "How are you feeling? You're so pale still—are you dizzy? Sit down, sit down. You hungry? I'm making your favorite."

"What happened?" Dennis croaks, mouth dry.

"You fainted. If Margaret hadn't found you—" Her fingers brush his hair back, concern etched in every movement. "Oh dear, I was worried sick."

"I'm okay, Mom."

"Come, sit down. Let me fix you a plate."

Dennis eats slowly, feeling almost normal. An uncomfortable meeting with his father looms ahead, but he has to keep going.That can't be worse than watching my project burn, he thinks, then laughs mirthlessly at what his life's become when that's his measuring stick for bad days.

His father's accountant stands ready when Dennis enters the office, tablet in hand.

"You're going to have to sell your part, Architect Kim." His father gets straight to the point.

"What? No!" Dennis's fingers dig into the leather armrests, his jaw tightening.

Dennis doesn’t expect any empathy—he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But even so, the words land like a punch, leaving him reeling.

"There's no other way, Master Kim." The accountant adjusts his glasses. "After the police reports came out, we've had massive losses. Half the project's investors have pulled out, and City Hall is moving to shut down the construction site permanently."

The police report sits on the desk like a bomb. "Construction negligence," they claim. Dennis's name appears everywhere—he signed every document, approved every stage. His reputation bleeds out in black and white.

Something about the report nags at him. The language feels too vague, the conclusions too neat. Chris's involvement hovers at the edges of his thoughts, but he can't go there. Not now.

"Mr. Lancaster from Lancaster & Son has made an offer. More than generous—enough to save us from bankruptcy." His father's voice softens slightly. "You can return to design, or work with your mother. Your choice."

How generous.

When Dennis stays silent, studying the photos and diagrams spread across the desk, his father dismisses the accountant.

Mr. Cho bows deeply before leaving them alone.

"I'm sorry, Son."

Dennis rises, moving to the wall where photos of the scorched east wing hang. He's tired of apologies from everyone except the person who owes them to him. His father joins him, both studying the destruction.

"Sorry about Lancaster's boy, too."

Dennis snaps to look at his father. "How did you know?"

"I figured." Mr. Kim keeps studying the photos.

"For how long?"

"A while."

"Our meeting. Did you know then?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you trusted him. And I wanted to trust you."

Dennis lets out a harsh laugh. "Talk about bad judgment."

"You must've had your reasons, Son. As I have mine."

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