Then I handed her the leather portfolio.
Her smile widened when she opened it.
A few seconds later, it slowly disappeared.
That evening, I visited the company’s oldest factory.
Through a distant window, I could see the mansion glowing on the hill.
I barely noticed it.
After the final employees collected their coats, I turned off the break-room lights and closed the door.
The small brass key turned smoothly in the lock.
Years earlier, I had dreamed of owning the mansion.
Walter left me something far more valuable.
He gave me a reason to open doors for other people.
