They didn't go far. Zach led Ava through a side hallway, past the conference room's heavy glass walls, to a quiet corner of the building—the old executive garden no one really used anymore. It had once been a manicured courtyard for photo ops, but now it was slightly overgrown, the hedges messily trimmed, a few stubborn dandelions pushing through the tiles.
It was imperfect.
And, somehow, exactly what Ava needed.
Zach sat down on a weathered bench beneath a crooked cherry blossom tree and patted the spot beside him. Ava hesitated, arms folded, eyes scanning the view like she was trying to pretend she hadn't just been ambushed emotionally by both her sister and the boardroom. Still, she sat beside him.
There was a long pause. One of those pauses where you could hear the leaves rustle like they had something better to say.
"So," Ava finally said, "was this your plan all along? To drive me insane one press scandal at a time?"
