My father had apparently offered to help build the workshop once the funding was secured.
At the bottom of the page, Mark had written a sentence that made my hands go cold.
If anything happens to either of us before this project is finished, I hope our families will find a way to complete what we started.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
“My father never told me about this.”
Richard nodded.
“There are several letters. Your father appears to have been a trusted collaborator on the project.”
Diane sat very still.
“Why didn’t Mark tell me?”
Richard turned another page.
“Because the project was never completed. The funding was withdrawn after Mr. Walker’s death, and Mr. Carrington eventually moved on to other work.”
I stared at the documents.
My father had been dead for thirteen years.
Mark had been dead for three.
Two men who had shared an ambition had left behind a project neither of their families knew how to finish.
