Chapter 5: A Visit in the Rain
A heavy autumn rain beat against the dusty windowpanes of the Willow Creek workshop. Inside, Arthur sat at his worktable, carefully repairing an old mechanical wall clock that had belonged to his grandfather. His hands were steady, guided by decades of precision and patience.
The heavy wooden front door creaked open, admitting a rush of cool wet wind along with the sound of hesitant footsteps. Arthur didn't look up immediately. He carefully placed a copper gear into position with a pair of tweezers before turning around.
Standing in the doorway, soaked through his expensive wool coat, was Logan. His leather shoes were ruined with mud, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked smaller, stripped of the polished authority he usually wore like armor.
""Dad,"" Logan said, his voice cracking slightly.
""Hello, Logan,"" Arthur replied softly, pointing toward a wooden stool nearby. ""Shut the door. You're letting the chill in.""
Logan closed the door and stepped further into the warm, resin-scented air of the shop. He stood uncertainly, looking around at the tools, the vintage machinery, and the simple cot in the corner.
""Why here?"" Logan asked, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion. ""You have proper real estate investments. You could stay at the Grand Hotel, or buy a condo in the city. Why are you sleeping in a drafty garage?""
""Because in this drafty garage, every piece of wood was paid for with honest work,"" Arthur said, placing his tools down on the felt cloth. ""When I wake up here, I don't hear people arguing about market shares or complaining about the cost of keeping an old man in the guest room.""
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Logan winced as if struck. He took a step forward, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. ""Dad, the company... the factory workers won't get paid on Friday. The supplier contracts are defaulting. If you took that money to punish me, I deserve it. I know I treated you like an inconvenience. I know I let Evelyn push you aside. But don't let those eight hundred men at the plant pay for my mistakes.""
Arthur looked into his son’s eyes for a long moment, searching for genuine repentance rather than corporate panic. ""I didn't take the money to punish you, son. I took it because you had forgotten what money is actually for.""
