“We could finish it,” I said.
She stared at me.
“The workshop?”
“The project. We could find the plans, speak to the partners, see whether the property is still available. We could make it real.”
She looked down at Mark’s letter.
Then she looked up.
For the first time since I’d known her, I saw something in her expression that resembled the beginning of a dream.
“Yes,” she said. “I think we could.”
The next six months were the hardest work I’d ever done.
The original site was no longer available, and the funding Mark had once secured had long since disappeared. The architectural firm had changed hands. The old plans needed to be revised, and we had to find people willing to invest in a project that promised no quick return.
Diane handled the design.
I handled the practical work.
Maya helped us build a fundraising campaign through the café, organizing weekend events and persuading local businesses to donate materials.
